To Have and To Hold
by weezer42
Summary: PW The year is 1910.A special book draws Wendy into another world where she finds characters from her childhood very much alive and well. Adventure and peril await the turn of the next page. Later chapters rated M for sexual situations.
1. Wendy

original upload -27th August 2005

reuploaded - 9th November 2008

Title: To Have and To Hold

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: One - Wendy Rating: PG13

Synopsis: The year is 1910, Wendy Darling is employed in a bookshop, her passions entirely literary. A special book draws her into another world where she finds characters from her childhood very much alive and well, not figments of her imaginations as she'd long supposed. Adventure and peril await the turn of the next page.

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Authors Note: After a hiatus of three months, and much prodding from persistant fans (you know who you are), I decided once more to put pinky to keyboard and attempt another foray into the wonderful adventures of these characters. My muse has been rather reticent about the direction of this particular epic, so don't bother asking me what's going to happen, because I have no idea. I can only trust to my muse and hope he/she/it knows what they're doing. Feedback is always appreciated and flames toast my marshmallows, so feel free to email me.

Addendum: (9/11/08)thanks to Lira for pointing out that several "Mr. Bennetts" had been dropped from the text - why, I have no idea, or how....but if you find anything else missing, do let me know.

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Wendy Darling danced nimbly out of the way of the dirty water splashed up by the passing wheels of the Stanley steamer car as it puttered its way along Montague Street, heading for Russell Square beyond. She clutched the books more firmly to her chest with one gloved hand while lifting her skirts above the cobbles with the other. A gust of wind buffeted her broad brimmed hat, threatening to rip it from her hat pins as she sought the shelter of a doorway, her fingers fumbling with the key to unlock the bottle glass door, another gust propelling her inward just as rain started to sleet down. Shutting the door behind her with an unladylike use of her bottom, Wendy dropped the books onto the counter and peeled her gloves off before removing her hat from on top of her piled hair. Re-skewering the hat pins amongst the straw, she gathered the hat and gloves together and whisked herself behind the counter to place them in their usual place on one of the shelves below.

Bennetts Book Shop Emporium was slightly off the beaten track for most casual shoppers along Russell Street, but to those seeking the unusual, the rare or the select, Bennetts was much sought out and well patronised for such a small business.

Mr. Bennett Senior was a spare man with a keen intellect and a sharp nose for business. It had been his brother who had been the collector of books, but Senior who put that love of books to good use. With his younger brother traveling the world, acquiring new books and filling orders, the senior made sure that the business thrived with canny investments and discreet advertising among the literati of London.

Turning up the gas lamps to light the dim interior, Wendy reflected on how she found herself staring out of the windows of, what was to her, an Aladdin's cave of treasures.

Wendy had discovered the bounty of Bennetts while on one of her walking tours, her love of the unusual and intriguing leading her off the beaten track and down a side street and into the self-effacing book shop. Here she had been so engrossed in a rare edition, that dinner with her Aunt was forgotten until a cough from recalled her to the time and she had to rush home, the book left behind in her haste. Two days later she was back and Mr. Bennett didn't wait for her to ask but handed the book over the counter to her and indicated with a smile to a rank of comfortable looking chairs ensconced in a corner for the use of patrons. Bestowing a sweet smile on the proprietor Wendy accepted the offer and delved once more between the pages. As the morning progressed there were a steady stream of customers to the shop, a surprise given the overcast day, Wendy's eyes lifting with each opening of the door, her surprised appraisal of the quality of the customers marked only by a lift of one eyebrow before she returned to her book. During a lull, seated himself beside the young lady and waited for her to acknowledge his presence. A long sigh escaped from Wendy's lips as she reached the end of a chapter, her eyes darting up and encountering the smiling gaze of shops owner.

"Oh I'm sorry.....I do promise you I intend to purchase this edition. It's just....." She bit her lip, unconsciously gripping the volume of verse more tightly. "I don't get a chance to just sit and....read, at home, and here its so...." She waved her hand. "Perfect."

Suppressing the urge to smile, threaded his fingers together and rested them across his waistcoat.

"You don't have to explain, young lady. I have found that if one allows a potential customer to fully sample what we have to offer,they are more likely to return again, and again to sample more."

"You are too kind. I do appreciate you giving me the time to delve into this wonderful book. I had been told of this author, and read some installments of his work in old editions of the Strand Magazine at my Aunt's, but to be able to read a complete novel of Doyles'', uninterrupted is just...." Wendy found herself lost for adjectives.

"Perfect?" Mr. Bennett offered, his lean mouth uplifting at the corners in response to Wendy's enthusiasm.

"Exactly."

"It is always a pleasure to encounter someone who gets as much pleasure from the printed page as my brother and I do. I am Arnold Bennett Senior and you are...?"

Sitting on the edge of the chair Wendy held out her hand to clasp his. "Wendy Moira Angela Darling....I'm very pleased to make your Acquaintance "

Gravely shaking her hand, 's eyes twinkled as he rose to his feet, drawing Wendy up with him.

"I look forward to seeing you within these book lined walls again soon."

"Oh yes...you will." Wendy fumbled in her reticule for the coin to pay for her book. As deposited the funds and returned her change, he crossed his arms and tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"I don't suppose a young lady of comfortable means is looking for a respectable position of employment close to home?"

Startled Wendy looked up to meet his knowing brown with her surprised blue eyes.

"As if just so happens, I am looking for a situation ."

"And I am in need of someone of intelligence and grace to update our catalogue and help our clientele with their purchases. Do you think you might be the person we're looking for Miss Darling?"

Pressing her book to her blouse, Wendy smiled brightly, once more holding out her hand.

"I think I am the very person, ....when can I start?"

"There will be no objection from your family?"

"Oh my Aunt will have plenty to say, but as she is aware I am looking for a position, it will not come as a surprise, and my parents will just be glad that I'm happy."

"I hope you will be happy here Miss Darling....there will be ample time for you to fit your writing around your duties here."

Looking surprised, Wendy gasped faintly. "How did you know?"

"That you are a writer? You have a callous on your finger and a faint smudge of blue ink on its partner."

Looking down at the offending digits, Wendy laughed. "Worthy of , if I may say so sir."

"All in the details my dear. Now are you able to start tomorrow?"

And so she did, despite misgiving, loudly lamented until she shut her Aunt's front door in that lady's face and set off down the street towards Russell Street.

To work in Bennetts would give her access to material she could use to start her own novel, in three parts, about her own adventures, something she had been working towards for the past six years. Of course, she had not been entirely focused on her writing for that entire time, a great deal had been spent on the business of growing up and becoming as accomplished as her Aunt could make her. Unfortunately her restless spirit hardly lent itself to such mundane skills as embroidery or sewing and her musical talent was sadly lacking despite a sweet singing voice. But despite her perceived short comings, unseen by anyone else, Wendy still kept her ability to weave magic from words, committing her imaginings to paper as often as possible with a view to compiling an anthology of her stories at some later date. Now it seemed that she would be making a positive step towards her goal, and all with little or no effort on her behalf.

Recalling herself to the present, Wendy stared out at the gloomy morning, the rain sending the few brave souls braving the weather to skitter and scramble along the street, their black umbrella's tugged and sent tumbling by the gusty wind as they fought to stay dry. Smiling ruefully at the few passing the door, she resigned herself to an unexciting morning with few customers. had left her in charge for the first time since she's started, that gentleman having to pay a visit to the Museum to discuss a discovery by his brother of an edition of Marcus Aurelius that his brother had unearthed while on his travels. The Museum had already expressed an interest in obtaining the copy and Arnold Bennett had an appointment to discuss delivery with the curator.

That left Wendy with a free morning to indulge in her favourite past-time, delving into the dusty recesses of the book shop and unearthing unseen treasures to wile away the hours. After checking that the door bell was working fine and the lights all burning brightly, Wendy gathered together the books she's borrowed the previous day and started down the long rows of shelves to return them. That task completed she took hold of the movable ladder and scooted it down the length of one shelf until it reached nearly the back of the shop. Carefully placing her booted foot on the bottom rung, she hitched up her skirts and started to climb. The ladder was not overly tall, and was well maintained and steady, but Wendy couldn't help feeling that she almost felt the sway of ship as she climbed the rigging, her eyes closing as she imagined the cry of the gulls and the smell of brine.

So lost in her thoughts it took three goes to get her attention from the customer standing patiently at the bottom of the ladder. On the third polite cough, Wendy jumped in surprise and twisted around, losing her footing in the process. With a cry she found herself falling, only a strong pair of arms stopping her connecting with disaster before both she and her rescuer tumbled headlong to the floor in a flurry of petticoats, hat and umbrella.

After several seconds of inelegant scrambling she managed to disentangle herself from on top of the human mattress that had saved her from serious injury.

"Oh dear...oh I'm so sorry.....are you alright?" Breathlessly she hauled herself up using the ladder and turned to survey the person who had saved her.

"I think I should be asking you that." The man replied getting to his feet and brushing down his top coat while looking for his hat knocked off in the encounter. His hair, usually smoothed back from his face, had been severely ruffled and a light brown lock now hung over his forehead, curling quite raffishly. His attention was currently taken up with straightening his waistcoat and jacket under his overcoat, giving Wendy amply time to peruse his appearance. As she clung to the ladder she pressed a hand to her chest, feeling her heart beating uncomfortably hard, from shock she supposed, although the young man in front of her would have sent any woman's heart beating rapidly. Satisfied that his appearance was not drastically altered, the young man raised his impossibly feminine lashes for such a masculine face, and stared back at her, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes as he noted her rather fixed attention on his features.

"Do I have a smut on my nose?"

Pulled from her musings, Wendy blinked several times before pushing herself away from the ladder and attempting to right her own disarray.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You were staring so hard I was sure I must have something stuck to my cheek."

Blushing with embarrassment, Wendy dropped her eyes and felt like shrinking into the carpet.

"I'm so sorry....I was startled you see..."

"Yes...I noticed....that was my third cough, my throat was becoming quite hoarse."

Because she was staring at her toes she didn't notice the twinkle in her rescuers eyes, or the tilt to his lips denoting his teasing.

"I can only apologize again Sir...."

"None needed, I assure you. Are you sure you're quite alright, that was a nasty tumble."

Reassured by his softly spoken enquiry, Wendy glanced up and found herself once more gazing into his eyes, their colour neither blue nor green nor any colour she could put a name to.

"I'm quite alright, I thank you.....was there something I could help you with?"

Alarmed to find her voice coming out as a faint squeak, Wendy cleared her throat and tried again, pleased to hear her voice sounding more normal on the second attempt.

She listened to his request for a specific book while he collected his fallen umbrella and sadly crushed hat from the floor. As he stood upright she belatedly realised that he was very tall and broad and seemed to fill up the narrow space between the bookshelves.

"If you care to come this way Sir, I'll find that volume for you."

Careful not to touch him, Wendy whisked herself away, the stranger following behind. The search for what he wanted took them around several of the shelves and once more to the back of the shop, the sound of the rain drumming on the back windows loud in the stillness of the bookshop.

"I'm sure it's around here, mentioned this particular author only last week, and I'm almost positive...." Wendy reached up her arm, raising herself on tip-toe for the requested novel.

"Let me." Without warning Wendy felt the gentleman come up close behind her and reach over her shoulder, his longer arm easily reaching the binding indicated and plucking it from the shelf.

"Oh...er..thank you." Wendy muttered, very conscious of the warmth emanating from the his body, his breath fluttering the hairs that had escaped her loose chignon at the back of her neck.

Turning back to face him she found herself only a hairsbreadth from the front of his coat, her eyes riveted to the large buttons, something stamped on their surface.

"Is that a ship?" She asked, only to gasp in surprise as the gas lamp situated in their aisle suddenly let go a loud pop and went out.

For a stunned moment she stood rigidly still, her heart pounding in her ears, then something brushed across her lips and a faint, drawn out whisper seemed to echo in her ears. "W-e-n-d-y."

Suddenly light flooded the aisle and she saw the man beside the gas-lamp, his back to her.

"It seems to be working now...are you alright?" He asked, turning back towards her from several feet away.

"I didn't feel you move..." Wendy stated, feeling rather dazed, her fingers pressed against her lips, not at all sure of what had just happened.

"No harm done then...can you wrap this for me? It's for a friend."

Suddenly recalled to her job, Wendy took the proffered book with trembling fingers and hastily returned to the front of the shop and behind the counter. Wrapping the book took only a moment, as did the exchange of money, then the man was tucking it inside his coat and preparing to leave.

"I hope your friend enjoys it." Wendy offered, inexplicably wanting to delay the moment he walked out of the shop and out of her life.

Swinging his head around he fixed her with an intent look before smiling widely at her. "I'm sure he will. I enjoyed our little.....adventure. Goodbye."

"Goodbye." Wendy replied, watching as he jammed his creased hat upon his head after slicking back the wayward lock that persistently flopped onto his forehead, then he opened his umbrella and ducked out of the door, the wind catching it and slamming it behind him. Before Wendy could react he was gone, a dark blur through the teeming rain.

The chiming of the clock recalled her to the present and she stared at the time in wonder. It had seemed like hours that the man had been in shop with her, but it had in fact been only minutes. Giving herself a mental shake she banished the image of his handsome face from her mind and tried to concentrate on what she'd been doing before the interruption of her morning.

The rest of the day passed in a desultory fashion with few customers brave enough to venture out in the appalling weather. With the afternoon drawing in, Wendy settled herself to wait for with her journal open on her lap, a pencil poised to add her days observations.

As she marshaled her thought, the handsome stranger of the morning chose that moment to intrude on her musing, not clad in a long dark overcoat this time but as a swashbuckling adventurer, his teeth gleaming whitely as he flashed a wide grin, his brawny arms wielding a cutlass as he slashed his way across the deck towards her, the pirates falling to left and right as he fought his way to her side, freeing her from her bonds with a single slash of his blade. Despite the noise and chaos of the battle around them, Wendy found herself clasped in his arms, his head lowering to cover her lips with his before sweeping her off her feet and carrying her away.

The bell chiming over the door jolted her out of her daydream as effectively as a bucket of cold water.

"Still here, m'dear....it's a wickedly wet afternoon. I'll call you a cab. Can't have you getting drowned, now can we?"

Wendy propelled herself out of the chair as Mr. Bennett shook his soaked umbrella out, the floor quite spotted with water before he plunged it into the umbrella stand, there to form a puddle.

"Anyone interesting come in today?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as Wendy blushed brightly before turning away to find the days ledger to show him.

"Nobody unusual...I'm afraid business was rather slow today."

"Ah...well, never mind. You get yourself ready, I'll go and whistle for a hackney for you."

"Oh but..." Wendy protested but Mr. Bennett was already standing on the shop porch, indicating for someone to come forward. A young boy accepted a coin and dashed away as ducked back inside.

"He won't be long, I'm sure. Jem has often done this service for me, he knows where all the taxi ranks are. Now make sure you secure that pretty hat, we don't want the wind to fly it away, do we."

Submitting to her employers avuncular care, Wendy prepared herself to leave just as the sound of a horse could be heard clopping to a halt outside the shop. With a hurried goodbye, Wendy left Bennetts and gave the driver instructions to take her back to her Aunts.

Once home she endured her Aunt's fussing over her damp hem and muddy half boots, along with a lecture about using public transport.

"Would you rather I walked and got soaked for my morals Aunt?"

"Of course not dear....it's just you never know who's been in the hackney before you."

After slipping on her indoor shoes, Wendy made her way upstairs, carefully unwrapping her journal from its waterproof cover as she entered her bedroom and sat down at her escritoire, opening it to the last page. In disbelief she stared down at the image drawn on the page below a line of her neat writing, the eyes as intent as their owner, daring her to join him even as his mouth seemed to mock her inclination to adventure.

"I didn't even realise what I was doing." Wendy breathed, shutting the book in a hurry before she found herself drifting off into another daydream about a man she was never likely to meet again.

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At nearly nineteen Wendy was quite used to her Aunt's importuning her to try harder to attach a husband. Since she had moved in with her Aunt at the tender age of fifteen, Wendy had leant early on that Millicent only had one wish, to see her niece comfortably settled before she attained the age of eighteen. Now that venerable age had passed and Wendy congratulated herself on foiling every attempt on her redoubtable Aunt's behalf to secure Wendy's future.

It was not that she didn't want to get married, or fall in love or any of those things expected of a girl, it was just she wanted to do something other than what was expected. She wanted to write more than she wanted to worry about the latest uncomfortable fashion, or the latest gossip about who had married whom and who was currently on the market for a wife. All that was unimportant to Wendy. She wanted to write and her ambition was to be published before she was twenty.

That no female author had managed such a feat before hardly worried her, she was going to be the first. To that end, her employment by Bennetts was a necessary step along the way, opening the door to opportunities and connections that would see her dreams fulfilled; despite her Aunt's and Parents well meant cautionary warnings about ambitious young ladies that wanted to run before they could walk.

Wendy ignored them all, convinced that if she wished for it hard enough it would happen. Bennetts, for her, was proof that it would.

A week after her day-dream inducing encounter with the unknown, and undoubtedly handsome young man, Wendy had another incident with a customer that caused her many a sleepless night, and not entirely as pleasurably.

It had been a long morning with the fine weather bringing out all those people who had remained indoor the previous week. As she bade the last customer farewell before lunchtime, she saw a long, sleek car pull up outside the shop. was in the back, taking a well earned break, so Wendy was alone when the owner of the car stepped onto the pavement and into the shop. The car door had been opened by a short, rotund individual with a nervous habit of pushing his glasses back up his nose, his coat straining to contain his ample stomach as he stepped back to allow the occupant of the car to exit. The short mans employer, for Wendy assumed he was as much from the little mans obsequious behavior, unwound his long legs from the back seat and gracefully rose to his full height, stepping on to the pavement and pausing to look up at the shop signage for a moment. He was dressed in black from his hat to his shiny boots, his suit obscured by a flowing cloak that he tossed over one shoulder, revealing its red silk lining. In one hand he held a cane with a silver top carved into the shape of a crocodiles head. In the other nothing, the arm held stiffly by his side to hold back the fold of his cloak as he stepped forward.

He entered the shop alone and came to stand in front of the counter, laying the cane down before lifting his left hand to sweep off his hat revealing raven black hair that glinted in the light from the gas lamps. Wendy found herself staring once more into eyes that seemed to mesmerize her, but this time not with romantic notions, but a feeling akin to terror, the mans' pale blue eyes seemingly stripping her where she stood, his sardonic lips curling upwards beneath a neatly trimmed moustache.

"I wonder if you can help me."

As if bored with her, the man's gaze swept past her to encompass the shop's contents and Wendy felt a jerk as if released from the bondage of his perusal.

"I will do my best Sir."

"Of course you will......" He rattled off the names of several authors and Wendy noted them in her book, already sorting in her mind where they would be found on the shelves. With her head down bent she didn't see the man glance back at her, a red gleam flashing in the pale blue as he flexed his gloved hand around the brim of his hat.

"If you care to wait, I will fetch these for you." Wendy suggested, indicating the chairs set out for that purpose.

"As you wish.....I am in a hurry."

"I'll be a quick as I can Sir."

Hurrying away, Wendy ducked down one of the aisles, quickly finding the first three on the list and carrying them back to the counter for the gentleman to peruse which she fetched the rest of his order.

One of his requests was proving elusive and she found herself on her knees tugging at a book that seemed jammed between two others.

"Is there a problem?" The man's voice slid over her, making her shiver as she glanced up to find him standing right beside her, his boots sporting buckles that she hadn't noticed before, the silver fashioned into an ornate representation of a crocodile chasing its tail. The book finally came free and Wendy scrambled to her feet, the man hooking a hand under her arm to assist her while at the same time bringing her flush against his chest, his face mere inches from hers.

"S-S-i-r?" Wendy whispered, her eyes wide as she stared into his, her lips parted as she drew in a panicky breath, overwhelmed by his saturnine good looks and searching stare.

"There's nothing to fear m'dear....I just wanted to see......" His deep voice trailed off, his hand abruptly letting her go so that she fell back against the shelf in surprise.

"See what?" Wendy whispered, his book clutched to her chest like a shield.

But he had already turned away, his cloak swirling about him as he sauntered back to the front of the shop leaving Wendy leaning weakly against the books. Giving herself a mental shake, Wendy followed more slowly and felt rather foolish by the time she had wrapped those books he indicated, handing over the large parcel to the short man with glasses who had entered unnoticed and now stood awaiting his masters' orders.

"Thank you, good day." Was all the dark man said before sweeping out of the shop, his hat once more on his head, his cane tapping against the footpath as he waited impatiently for his minion to catch up and open the car door.

Mr. Bennett, coming up behind Wendy and watching as the car purred out of sight saw her jump when he spoke. "Who was that?"

"Oh...oh nobody...just a man wanting some books."

"You look very pale Wendy, are you sure everything is alright?"

"Yes....yes of course. Would you mind if I go and make myself a cup of tea?"

"Not at all..take your time, you look a little shaken up."

Brushing off her kindly employers concern, Wendy muttered something incoherent and took herself off into the side room that housed a small kitchen and office.

Stirring her tea with a shaking hand, she chided herself for being so easily over set by the man, her mind pondering what he meant when he told her he just wanted to see. But see what?

Writing the incident up in her journal when she was once more safely ensconced in her bedroom, Wendy tried to remember as much detail as possible, but her memory remained vaguely elusive, as if a veil had been thrown over the entire encounter until she wondered if it had happened at all.

When she slept that night she tossed and turned, her dreams haunted by a pair of pale blue eyes that seemed to be forever asking a question and laughing cruelly when she failed to understand or answer.

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It was the Monday following the incident with the man in black when Wendy found The Book. She had been looking for a reference book, her search taking her up into the attic where assured her the book was to be found. It was only late morning but the attic was quite dark with no daylight finding a hole in the slates. Carefully she carried a lamp in one hand, together with a box of matches, up the narrow stairs to the small door. Unlocking it she pushed the door open before lighting the lamp and pressing forward. Under the eaves the attic space stretched away into the gloom, several strange shapes causing her to hold the lantern high to identify them. Down one end appeared to be furniture and household bric-a-brac no longer needed, along with old shelving and several leather bound chests. The other end held a series of low shelves draped in cheesecloth to keep out the dust and protect the volumes hidden beneath the folds.

There was plenty of headroom but the blackness of the roof made Wendy bend over regardless of the space, the lantern shedding a circle of light not much further than her footfall beyond her skirts. On reaching the first shelf she carefully pulled back the cover, so as not to create a dust storm. A quick check of the volumes made her replace the corner and move on to the next shelf. This proved the one she was looking for so she pulled the cloth completely off, albeit very carefully, and folded it on the floor. Placing the lamp where it shed it meager light on the spines, she started to work her way down the titles. As her fingers danced over the leather bindings she heard a noise and turned to see what it was. Thinking it a mouse, she was surprised to see a book sitting half out of its place on the shelf. Lifting the lamp she approached the book and reached out to pull it from its place. It appeared stuck and she had to tug to free it, the shelf almost rocking when she did. It was only a slender volume, its leather binding quite dull with dust, the gold lettering on the spine indecipherable with wear. Curious, Wendy opened the book and almost dropped it when the title leapt of the white parchment.

Neverland Awaits You.

As she stared down at those three words staring starkly up at her from the first page, she felt the room start to spin. Closing her eyes she shut the book with a snap and dropped it to the floor, her hand flying to her forehead and pressing, as if to stop the cascade of memory that was flooding into her minds eye.

"You don't exist...it was a dream....it's not possible!"

Drawing in a calming breath, Wendy opened her eyes to find the world hadn't shifted on its axis, that the attic was just as dark and musty as before. Seeing the small book sitting forlornly in the dust, she bent down to pick it up. She didn't open it again, just turned it over in her hand, peering at the front on which there was a design like a medallion or a coin, and at the back, which had another stamp like that made by a ring in hot wax. Her original search forgotten, Wendy gingerly held the book as if expecting it to burst in to flames and carried it to the head of the stairwell after collecting the lamp. Hurrying down the stairs she made up an excuse to Mr. Bennett, who took one look at her white face and sent her home to rest without questioning her further.

Her Aunt was out when she fumbled her way into the house and rushed up the stairs, only the maid noting her arrival as Wendy whisked herself into her bedroom and shut the door. Panting at her precipitous arrival, Wendy threw off her hat and coat, her gloves landing on the heap before throwing herself onto the bed, the book clutched convulsively against her breast.

"What on earth will Mr. Bennett think of me....he must think I've run mad..I have gone mad.....quite mad."

While she waited for her heart to stop pounding, Wendy rolled on to her side and held the book up to look at it closely. It felt warm against her fingers, the leather cover silky and smooth, almost alive. Biting her lip she slowly opened the cover again and saw the title, just as it had been before. Hesitantly she turned the page and saw a colour plate covered by waxed paper. Lifting the concealing sheet she felt her heart thud as she stared at the small but beautifully executed painting of the island of Neverland, every detail as sharp as if painted that day, the colours vibrant as if newly minted.

It was Neverland, her Neverland, Peter's Neverland, Hook's Neverland, the tall peaks, deep valleys, lush forests, azure seas, wide plains, it was all there. Reverently she traced the tip of her finger over the picture, the image seeming to swell and expand until she felt like she was hovering over the island, flying like a seagull over its rocky cliffs and sandy beaches, as light as a feather. A sudden sensation of vertigo made her head swim and her eyes slam shut, the book dropping from her hand to the bedcovers.

As she pressed her fingers to her eyes, memories of her short time spent on that magical island started to flood over her. Of Peter, so young and vibrant, so brash and brave, so arrogant and vulnerable. Of herself, so in love with him, with his world, with her own sense of adventure and invulnerability. It was all so long ago.

Of course she could not really deny it existed, there were her brothers and step-brothers as proof that they had gone somewhere, and come back from somewhere, and there was the pirate booty which had allowed the Darling family to absorb the new arrivals with little strain on the bank balance. But time has a habit of dulling events, of diluting history, or reducing facts to vague remembrances until faces start to blur and details become lost amongst everyday routine and growing up.

She had never really forgotten Peter, but all she could recall with any clarity was impressions of him, his cocky stance, smug smile and sun bleached hair. Of Neverland, she had similar impressions, of running through lush undergrowth, of climbing the rough bark of trees, of flying above the clouds, their cold wisps stroking her face. Her sharpest recollections were of the times aboard the Jolly Roger. The ship smelling of tar and brine, the rigging creaking and swaying, the deck heaving under her bare feet, all these she remembered along with the terror of being at Hook's mercy until Peter arrived and saved them all.

Opening her eyes she picked up the book again and opened it to the coloured plate, the image once more just a painted picture of a fanciful island from someone's imagination.

There's simply no way it could be her painted island, could it?

Turning the page brought her to the page that usually held the information about its printing date and publisher.

All that was listed was a date, nineteen-oh-four, the year Wendy had turned thirteen, the year she met Peter Pan.

Turning the page again, expecting the index, she was surprised to see her own name heading up the first chapter. Was the author someone known to her? Known to her family? As she read the opening paragraph she almost threw the book across the room. It was about her, her life, her family, what she had done after turning away from the window, from Peter.

Horrified that someone appeared to have been spying on her life, Wendy read down to the bottom of the page, reliving her thirteenth year as if it was yesterday, her life exposed on the printed page like a butterfly pinned to a board. Who had written this? How could they know?

She flipped the pages to the end of the book, hoping to find some reference to the author, not bothering to read anything past the first page, but she noted several pages that held colour plates like the one at the front, her curiosity over coming her bewilderment.

Still not quite believing what she'd read, Wendy read the first page again, the words recalling her feeling and hopes even at that tender age, so torn between childhood and adulthood, her body and mind pulling in different directions but always onwards, never allowing her to linger in the past. Almost scared to read more, she turned the page and found herself staring at an image of herself at thirteen.

"Have I really grown up that much?" She whispered to herself, staring at the girl-child on the brink of being a young woman.

Had she ever been that young, that innocent, that beautiful. Unconsciously Wendy lifted a hand to release her hair from its pins, her long locks tumbling down around her face, the tips no longer sun bleached and golden, the colour darker than in the painting. Seeing the rosy lips parted in a sweet smile in her younger self, Wendy touched her own in wonder, knowing and yet still not believing that she had been that girl once as shown in this book that should not exist.

"I wonder, Peter, if you would love me still, would want to take me away to Neverland again......were you ever alive anywhere but in my dreams?"

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TBC......


	2. The Book

31/8/05 

Title: To Have & To Hold

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Two - The Book

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Drawing her gaze from the image of her youthful self, Wendy continued to read, her life laid down on the printed page, no detail or incident unrecorded, the following pages encapsulating her life from the tender age of thirteen to sixteen, the chapter finishing with her removal from her family home to her Aunts. The heading of the next chapter was simply 'Millicent' and Wendy read the first paragraph with growing discomfort. The author, whoever they were, were now telling Wendy's life through the eyes of her Aunt, her voice clearly heard in Wendy's head as the narrative related several conversations that no-one but herself and her Aunt had been privy to.

"This isn't possible." Wendy whispered to herself, her forehead folded in a frown of growing bewilderment. Turning the page brought another painting of herself, this time dressed for her first formal dance, her face flushed with anticipation, her fingers nervously clutching a posy of white roses that had been sent to her, but neither Wendy nor her Aunt ever knew who her admirer had been. Peering at the impossibly-to-exist painting, Wendy noticed that there appeared to be a landscape in the background, the detail too hazy to make out whether it was the wallpaper behind her or a picture hanging on the wall. The longer she looked the less she could make out until she shook her head and continued to read about her life at her Aunts, through that lady's eyes. The chapter ended abruptly on the event of Wendy's eighteenth birthday and Wendy felt her eyes burn with the strain of reading in the uncertain light of her shadowy bedroom.

Glancing at her small ormolu clock beside her bed she realised that several hours had passed since she'd returned home and yet no-one had come to fetch her for a meal or to enquire about her. Swinging her legs off the side of the bed she shivered, her room suddenly chill, causing her to reach for a thick shawl at the end of the bed usually thrown over her nightdress to ward off the cold night air. Walking to the window she pulled back the curtains and stared out at the rapidly darkening sky, a few flakes were starting to drift down out of the heavens, melting as soon as they touched a surface. Barely believing what she was seeing, Wendy pushed up the sash of her window and leant out, heedless of the chill rushing into her room. Holding out a hand she waited for one of the snowflakes to alight on her skin, the icy offering stinging her for a second before melting into a droplet and running off her hand.

"But it's only September." Wendy remarked to herself, her brows once more drawn together as the snow started to fall more heavily, forcing her to retreat into her room and close the window. As she reached to pull the curtains closed her eye caught the flash of something in the sky and she stood frozen, staring across the rooftops at a star that appeared to pulsate in the skies above London. Off to its left another, fainter star also appeared, its light more yellow that its brighter brother.

"Second star to the right..." Wendy breathed, her words leaving a mist on the glass in front of her.

Yanking the curtains closed she almost ran to her bedroom door and pulled it open. The landing outside was dark, no lights apparently lit despite the darkness outside.

"Amy? Why haven't the lights been lit? Amy?" Wendy called out as she clutched the shawl more tightly about her shoulders, her other hand following the wooden bannister rail as she made her way cautiously down the carpeted stairs in the semi-gloom. "Amy?"

Fumbling her way to the hall table, Wendy tried to light a match to ignite the wick of a table lamp but none of the matches would strike. Throwing the box down in disgust Wendy swung around and headed for the front door, the latch stiff and uncooperative until, with a loud click, the lock gave and Wendy lurched out on to the front step, her breath fogging in the cold air.

The pavement and road was already white with a light dusting, the flakes starting to fall more thickly as Wendy took a step outside to stare in shock at the houses opposite. None showed any lights, and the street lamps were similarly doused. There were no marks on the pavement of footprints or wheel tracks on the roadway. Turning her head from side to side, Wendy could see little beyond the few houses either side of her, the snow now falling so thickly that visibility was quickly shrinking down to just her Aunts house and the pavement at the bottom of the steps. Hesitantly Wendy took a step forward but a flurry of flakes drove her back, the ice stinging her face and hands as she tried to protect herself. With a cry she twisted around and stumbled back into the house, her teeth chattering as rivulets of chill water dripped from her hair down her face.

"What is happening?" She cried out, the house silent as she shivered with fright and cold. Expecting and receiving no answer, Wendy hurried to check all the rooms on the ground floor, the doors left open behind her as she ran on numb feet, hoping against hope to find someone, anyone to tell her it was all a mistake, a cruel joke.

Almost sobbing she returned to the foyer having found no indication of anyone ever having lived in the house, let alone her Aunt and the few servants she employed. It was almost full dark now, only a faint glimmer of pale light coming through the glass above the door as Wendy made her way up the stairs to her room, her arms wrapped around her body, her mind frighteningly blank.

When she reached the top of the stairs she saw a light spilling out of her room, warm and golden like the sun rising.

"Aunt Millicent?" Wendy quavered, her feet carrying her towards her bedroom doorway, the light growing brighter the closer she came.

"Wh-o-o's in there?" Edging her way cautiously into the room, she had to hold up her hand to shield her eyes as the light blazed into incandescence, flooding the room with heat.

Beyond fear, Wendy stepped forward fully into the light, her eyes almost shut against the glare. Her bed seemed to be the center of the light source and she recalled that the book had been left there. Blinking, she squinted and could just see the hard edges of the book's cover lying on top of her coverlet, a beam of light emanating from the coin like medallion she'd seen pressed into the leather cover. As she peered slit-eyed at the beam of light, she saw something suspended over the book, dangling just above the medallion. Drawn by some unknown force, Wendy approached the bed, her shawl dropping to the floor unheeded as she reached out to grasp the object suspended over the book. As her fingers wrapped around whatever it was, the light suddenly winked out of existence leaving her blinking stupidly while spots of light danced over her vision. She stood there beside the bed for some seconds until her sight once more adjusted to the gloom of her room. As her sight returned, so did her other senses, her ears registering noises coming from outside the house, of footsteps on the stairs beyond her room.

"I've come to see if'n you'd like a cup of tea Miss Wendy?" Amy cheerful voice jolted her out of her trance.

Looking up and around, Wendy met Amy's enquiry look with a bemused one of her own. "Tea?"

"Yes Miss...cup of tea, some of cook's sultana cake?"

"Er...yes...thank you...I'll be down presently." Wendy continued to stare at the maid with an abstracted air, the girl stepping further into the room in curiosity.

"Are you alright Miss? You look a mite peaky. Would you like your tea up here?"

"NO...er no...thank you. I'll come down...I'm...I'm just a bit tired."

"As you wish." Giving Wendy a curious glance the maid left, the sound of her feet pattering down the stairs keeping Wendy's attention until they faded into the distance.

Thoroughly confused, Wendy turned back to the bed to stare down at the inoffensive book lying as she'd left it on the coverlet, its cover once more dull with age and dirt, the coin medallion almost invisible. She started to shake in reaction, her legs giving out until she sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. Almost at once she leapt up again, rushing over to the window and pulling back the curtains. Outside it was dusk with lights blazing from all the houses opposite and still a trickle of traffic trundling past the few pedestrians hurrying home. Of the snow storm there was no sign, nor of the two bright stars in the sky.

Something brushed against her hand and she realised she was still holding whatever had been floating above the book. Opening her fingers she felt a rush of tears flood her eyes as she gazed down at the chain and pendant sitting so innocently on her palm.

The chain was still bright, the gold not dulled with the years, but the pendant was a shadow of its former glory, the smooth surface with its small hole now wrinkled and black, the stalk shriveled, the leaf crumbled to dust.

"My Kiss..." Wendy whispered, the tears trembling on her lashes before falling over and blazing a path down her cheek. Cupping the withered acorn in both her hands she walked back to the bed and sat down beside the book. Carefully she deposited the blackened memento onto the coverlet and stared down at the two side by side.

Sniffing, Wendy wiped her face with the back of her hand, hardly knowing what to think. Had she been asleep and just dreaming? Had it all been an hallucination? What did it all mean?

"I must have dreamed it." Fumbling in her skirt pocket for a hanky, Wendy wiped the rest of her tears away and blew her nose. Drawing in a shaky breath she rose to her feet and brushed down her skirts. Feeling her hair brush against her face she moved to her dressing table and sat down, quickly twisting her hair into a loose bun and securing it with pins. Her eyes looked red and her cheeks were pale, but she hardly noticed, her thoughts introspective as she prepared to go downstairs and have the tea prepared for her.

"It was just a dream...I fell asleep and had a...a...nightmare. Nothing more." Blithely ignoring the facts, the book that couldn't exist, and the acorn that shouldn't exist, Wendy straightened her shoulders and walked out of her room.

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"She almost came through."

"Patience lad...she'll be here soon enough."

"Why didn't it work? Has it been too long?"

"Nay...give it time. She has a lot to remember, it's been a few years."

"Six to be exact in her world...has she forgotten me?"

"Nay...not exactly."

"She didn't recognize me...she has forgotten me."

"You worry too much. The Book says she'll come, so she will."

"But what if she doesn't...what if she chooses to forget?"

"That'll never happen. She'll come...in her own good time."

"Maybe I should go and see her again."

"You'd be foolish to push it...Hook will use it to his advantage is he finds out you've already pre-empted him. He might think to lure her."

"He's too old...and anyway...Wendy loved me, not him."

"Ah lad...women are fickle creatures. She loved you as a girl, now she's a woman and Hook is not unattractive to the opposite sex."

"I'll gut him if he tries it."

"Yes well...all I'm saying is give it time. She'll have to get to know you all over again."

"Have I changed so much?"

"We all have lad...you, her, Neverland...the whole kit and kaboodle."

"She is beautiful, doncha think?"

"Handsome is as handsome does...it's what's in the heart that counts."

"Why Matt, I do believe you've become a romantic in your old age."

"Get away with ya, ya swab...isn't there something you should be doing? Or are we expected to Captain this tub ourselves?"

"I'm going..."

Quartermaster Stubbs watched his youthful Captain bound up the stairs to the main deck, the hatch banging shut behind him. Turning away, Stubbs leant his hands on the rough hewn table set in the middle of the Captain's cabin, the book laying open on the uneven surface looking innocent of the power locked between its covers. With a sigh Stubbs used a single finger to turn the page, the image the same as when he'd looked at it a moment ago with his Captain.

The painting showed the image of a young women, her hand outstretched to grasp a chain suspended in light, her other arm thrown up to shield her eyes from the intense rays.

"Patience, my Captain...she'll be here soon enough. Then we'll see the fur fly."

Hooking the front of the book he slammed it shut, the shiny coin medallion on the front winking brightly against the red leather binding.

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Wendy slept late the next morning, her eyes gritty and sore. Rushing to get to work, she jammed the book into a bag, only touching it when her hands were gloved. On arriving at Bennetts she apologized to Arnold profusely but that gentleman only chided her for looking so wan before leaving her to carry on cataloging the latest additions to the collection.

The book lay forgotten for most of the morning until Wendy had occasion to seek a handkerchief. As soon as her hand dipped into her bag, the book seemed to find its way between her fingers. Every time she put it aside and delved again the book seemed to catch itself, putting itself into her palm until she had to lift it out in frustration.

She put the book down on the counter and found her handkerchief within seconds. Just as she was about to throw the book back into her bag Mr.Bennett appeared.

"Everything alright m'dear?"

"Oh yes...quite alright. Just a sniffle."

Peering over his half-glasses, Mr.Bennett picked up the slim book before Wendy could, turning it over in his hand and inspecting the spine and cover.

"Now I haven't seen this for many a year. From the attic?"

Wendy blushed and nodded.

Cradling it carefully in one hand, he opened it with the other, his eyebrows rising as he read the front page.

"I didn't know you were interested in piracy?"

Perplexed, Wendy could only stare at her employer open mouthed.

Seeing her expression, Mr.Bennett held up the book for her to see the fly leaf. The title read "Pirates and Piracy - A Personal Journal"

"But...but..it didn't...that's not..." Wendy spluttered, unable to explain.

"Not that I don't see the romantic attraction of such a profession, but I would hardly call it light reading for a young lady."

Seeing the twinkle in his eye, Wendy snapped her mouth shut and attempted to smile. "I was doing some research, you see..."

"You don't have to explain...I remember when this came in, from an deceased estate collection...strange family name...sounded like..." Mr.Bennett's forehead creased as he tried to remember. "Tree...or Flea...or...something like that..."

Feeling the blood drain from her face, Wendy swallowed hard.

"Smee?"

The frown on Mr.Bennett's face disappeared and he snapped the fingers of his free hand. "Smee..that's the name. Now how did you know that?"

"Er...I guessed?"

"Well you're quite right...a seafaring gentlemen, lived to a ripe old age and had a fascinating collection of artifacts collected from around the world."

"Did you see any of these...er...artifacts?" Wendy asked, not at all sure she wanted to hear the answer.

"Some...I remember they caused quite a stir in the scientific circles because of their claims to be authentic."

Wendy swallowed on a dry throat. "Authentic?"

"Yes...silly really. I mean fairies and mermaids don't exist, do they?"

"Er...no, I suppose they don't."

Mr. Bennett tapped a finger against the book, lost in his remembrance. "I do remember one article that stood out. A collection of gold and silver hooks."

"Hooks?" Wendy could feel the walls starting to recede and then crowd in.

"Yes, most unusual...a carved wooden box with a red velvet lining, very expensive and ornate, like a jewel case, but it held very sharp hooks of different shapes and sizes. The kind a man would use if he'd lost a hand..." Mr.Bennett belatedly realised his audience was swaying. "Why Wendy...whatever is the matter...oh my!"

Dropping the book hurriedly, Mr.Bennett caught his assistant as she flopped forward, her eyes closed. Wendy was by no means a large girl, but Mr.Bennett was not a strong man and wilted under her weight. Just as he thought that they would both end up on the carpet, the door opened and a gentlemen entered. Taking in the situation at a glance, the man came around the end of the counter and scooped the girl into his arms, relieving Mr.Bennett who indicated for the stranger to carry Wendy over to a divan and lay her down.

"I don't know what came over the dear girl...she was fine a moment ago, then suddenly..." Mr.Bennett hurried back to the counter and rummaged in one of the drawers, finding the vial he was seeking.

The stranger was kneeling beside the divan, chafing Wendy's hand when Mr.Bennett leant over and suggested he wave the vial under her nose.

Flinging back his dark cloak, he did just that, Wendy's nose wrinkling as she inhaled the astringent fumes. With a gasp she came awake, her eyes wide as she beheld the man leaning over her. To every ones surprise she screamed and covered her face, the man rearing back and almost stepping on Mr.Bennett who similarly stepped backwards.

"Oh dear...it was all that talk on pirates. Must have frightened the poor girl. I do apologize."

Rising stiffly to his full height, the man regarded Mr.Bennett with a sardonic smile, his eyes gleaming as he turned to leave. "I don't imagine it was pirates, maybe I reminded her of someone."

"Dear sir...I can only thank you for your prompt action."

"Think nothing of it...I'll leave you to take care of her and return another time."

Not waiting a moment longer, the dark stranger left the shop in a swirl of black silk, Mr.Bennett taking his position beside the divan.

"Has he gone?" Wendy's muffled voice came from behind her fingers.

"Yes m'dear...how are you feeling?"

"Embarrassed."

"You should have told me you were unwell..I don't expect you to work if you don't feel up to snuff."

"I'm not unwell...mad maybe, but not ill," Wendy's voice had an hysterical edge that sent Mr.Bennett reaching for the smelling salts again. Seeing his worried frown, Wendy swung her legs over the edge of the divan and sat up, a forced smile painting her face.

"Please Mr.Bennett...I don't know what came over me, really. I...er...I had a bad night...um..nightmares and such."

"Ah...reading that book until the small hours, I'll hazard a guess."

"Something like that...I am sorry to be so weak willed..."

"Not at all...and the gentleman said he'd be back, so no custom lost there."

"Gentleman?"

"The one who carried you here," Mr. Bennett laughed softly, "I could hardly do that myself."

"Oh dear...was he a young gentleman?" Wendy could feel herself blush to the roots of her hair as she studiously studied her skirts.

"Not young...don't you remember, you screamed when you opened your eyes."

"Oh Lord...I didn't...oh I did." Mortified, Wendy covered her face again.

"Tut tut, nothing to worry about...I'm sure he felt very gallant rescuing you from a 'fate worse than death'."

Hearing the amusement in his voice Wendy looked up. "Fate?"

"An ignominious heap on the carpet, m'dear."

"Oh."

"Just teasing...getting the roses back in your cheeks. Now, a cup of tea is needed I think. You stay here and I'll return with the pot."

"But..."

"No buts...you just sit here, I'll be back directly."

As she watched her employer duck into the side room, Wendy rose to her feet and advanced on the counter, the book laying where Mr.Bennett had dropped it. Snatching it up, Wendy flipped through the pages, but instead of her life story, the pages were filled with images of small boys, dressed most strangely in furs and feathers and leaves, sporting weapons as diverse as their dress. The first chapter was headed up 'The Lost Boys' and Wendy skip read the early pages, flipping back the illustrations until she reached the second chapter. Her heart seemed to still in her chest as she read the title. 'The New Pan'

"What does that mean? The 'New Pan'. What happened to the old Pan? What happened to Peter?"

Mr.Bennett chose that moment to return with a cup of strong tea and Wendy had to put the book down. He steered Wendy back to her seat and fussed over her until a customer entered the shop, then he left her with her thoughts.

For Wendy the morning seemed interminable, the trickle of customers keeping both her and Mr.Bennett busy until well after their lunchtime. Even then the bell above the door seemed to sound again before they had done more than sip their tea and take a bite of anything, let alone pick up a book and read it. By afternoon Wendy felt stretched thin with nervous tension, the book almost calling to her to read it, to learn what had happened in Neverland during her long absence.

At last Mr.Bennett was shooing her out the door, the book once more safely tucked into her handbag, her employer extolling her not to burn the midnight oil again as he waved her goodbye.

Hurrying along the pavement among the crowds of other shop-girls and workers, Wendy didn't heed the carriage shadowing her, the hackney indistinguishable from the hundreds of others plying their trade, nor did she see the occupant who watched the slight figure intently as she hurried home.

Wendy was so intent on reaching her room she didn't hear her Aunt call out to her as she rushed up the stairs, shedding her hat, hat-pins and gloves as she went, her hair tumbling down her back as she fled to the relative security of her room. Slamming the door behind her, she scrabbled in her bag for the book before flinging the accessory into the corner along with her coat. Sitting down heavily on her bed she almost dropped the slim volume her hands trembled so much. In her haste to open it she skipped the first few pages and found herself staring down at a figure of a boy, his cheeky grin an echo of the boy she'd known, but his features completely unknown to her.

"Who are you?" Wendy asked the painting, skimming back through the pages to reach the first, her eyes darting down the page to find out where 'her' Peter had gone. She read the entire chapter and it told her nothing of what had become of the Pan she'd known, just relating the adventure of the boy in the painting that bore no relation to her memory. Certainly the adventures were the same, his clothing and weapons as she recalled, but the face that stared out of the page held none of the spark, the sheer vitality of the boy she'd lost her heart to. A sound caught her attention and she looked up from her close inspection to find her Aunt standing in the doorway looking in at her, her expression somewhere between disapproval and alarm.

"Wendy?"

"Oh...sorry...did you call me?"

"Several times dear...you rushed in, but I wasn't quick enough to catch you. Rushing pell mell up the stairs is hardly lady-like Wendy, and as for throwing your things all over the entrance hall...what ever possessed you?"

"I'm sorry...I just...I had to get upstairs."

Pursing her lips, Millicent stared pointedly at the book still clutched in Wendy's hand. "What is so important that you just had to forego common curtesy and hide yourself in your room?"

Glancing down at the book, Wendy bit her lip. Millicent held out her hand and Wendy reluctantly surrendered the book, closing her eyes when her Aunt flipped the book open to the first page.

"Well, I don't see what was so all fired important about hiding this from me?"

Wendy opened her eyes and stared up at her Aunt who was flipping through the book with a very smug expression on her face.

"And there I was thinking you didn't pay one whit of attention to anything I've said...oh Wendy, I'm so happy."

Thoroughly confused, Wendy rose to her feet and came to stand beside her Aunt, looking over her shoulder at the book. As her Aunt flipped the pages Wendy could see several illustrations for elaborate gowns, several with long trains and flowing flowers. To Wendy's astonishment the book appeared to be all about wedding dresses, along with advice about flowers and other marital paraphernalia for the future bride. Millicent closed the book with a snap and embraced her niece with a kiss on both cheeks before pressing the book back into Wendy's nerveless fingers.

"When were you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what Aunt?"

"Who the lucky man is?"

"Lucky man?"

"The man you've decided to marry...Oh Wendy, don't tease me..who is he?"

"I have no idea...this book...oh dear...this book, it wasn't what I brought home."

"Oh come now dear...you can tell me? Or are you keeping it as a surprise for your dear parents. Oh how exciting...at least tell me his first name or I'll just burst with anticipation."

Wendy found herself lost for words, her Aunt's bright, intent gaze and obvious enthusiasm making her distinctly uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry Aunt, but I have no one in mind to marry...no one at all."

Millicent's face fell dramatically and Wendy winced inwardly at her Aunt's wounded look.

"Oh Wendy...how unkind of you. It's not much to ask for his first name...is it?"

Feeling a headache coming on, Wendy searched her suddenly blank mind for a name to give her Aunt.

"Peter...his name...is...Peter."

Again she found herself fondly embraced before her Aunt patted her on the arm and headed for the bedroom door.

"Thank you dear...I promise to keep it a secret until you tell George and Mary...oh how wonderful...Peter..."

Wendy waited for her Aunt to leave before sinking back down on the bed and dropping her head into her hands, the book discarded once more on the coverlet.

"What have I done?"

With her face still hidden in her hands, Wendy fell sideways onto her pillows, wondering how on earth she was going to get herself out of the pickle she'd created by lying to her Aunt.

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Wendy dragged herself up to her room later that evening, her ears burning from all the thinly veiled suggestions of places to hold the service and recommended guests for the list her Aunt was already starting to compile. That combined with the knowing looks and smug smile when Millicent thought Wendy wasn't looking, produced a headache that Wendy used to shorten the interminable probing, albeit subtle, that accompanied almost every breath her Aunt took.

Through it all Wendy gritted her teeth and wished she'd bitten off her tongue rather than give credence to the lie, had never seen the wretched book that seemed to have the ability to change its printing at the drop of a hat. On reaching her room she spied the offending publication still sitting on her bed. Picking it up as if it were a dead mouse she flung it into a corner where it lay face up in the shadows.

Preparing herself for bed soothed Wendy somewhat, her head ceasing to pound quite so violently as she brushed out her hair and slipped into her nightgown. Too tired to think she climbed into bed after dousing the lights, her eyes closed before her head sank into the pillows. Almost at once her eyes opened as she felt something digging into her side. Sitting up she swept her hand over the bottom sheet and encountered the chain which had held the withered acorn pendant. Suddenly angry, Wendy made to fling the token away from her, but somehow the chain became entwined about her fingers. Trying again, she disentangled the links and held it all bundled up in her hand, attempting once more to throw the lot away from herself. Once again the chain somehow managed to tangle itself in her fingers, keeping the acorn snuggly against her palm.

"Oh for heaven's sake...I give up."

Falling back to her pillows, Wendy left the chain as it was, her fingers folding over the blackened acorn as her eyes closed once more and she slipped quickly into a deep sleep.

In the corner the book seemed to shiver, moving across the carpet an inch before becoming still again, then a minute later it moved again, this time lifting into the air and starting to spin, slowly at first and then faster as it rose higher. It remained closed until it had floated almost to the ceiling then it stopped spinning when the book flipped itself open and lay back on its spine, the pages standing up as if frozen in place like the petals of a flower. Slowly the front and back pages started to come together so that the pages spread out even further, looking like a strange star when the two hard covers finally fused together. It continued to float there for a second before it started to emit a glow, the light strengthening with each pulse, flooding the bedroom and illuminating the sleeper but not waking her.

Tucked away in Wendy's hand, the acorn started to glow as well, the nut turning from black to green to gold in the space of a heartbeat, the chain glowing like a ribbon of light wound around Wendy's fingers, pulsing in time with the book.

With the connection made the book, that now looked more like a star, floated across the room and hovered over the sleeper, the light giving the girl an ethereal glow, the covers of the bed peeling away as if pulled by an invisible hand. As it floated above the bed the book-star began to spin, the pages fluttering slightly as it moved, the acorn against Wendy's palm worming its way out and lifting up as if to join with the book as it whirled madly in the air. As if this was the signal the light strengthened and became blinding, cloaking Wendy in gold from head to toe until she too became a thing of light, her body filled and surrounded by it, her outline gradually dissolving, becoming absorbed by the light. In a blink she was gone, the book twisting drunkenly in its mad spinning, the light dying as the outer covers separated and started to fold back on itself until, with a snap, the book closed, dropping lightly to the mattress as if just discarded by its owner.

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TBC...


	3. The Island

4/09/05 

Title: To Have & To Hold

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Three - The Island.

Rating: PG13

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"Is she alive?"

"Who cares, she's a grup...grup are supposed to stay dead."

"She doesn't look dead."

"Well, if'n she's not dead, what the heck is she doing layin' about 'ere?"

"Maybe she's a new lost girl?"

"Fool...she's a grup...grup's can't be lost kids, they're grups!"

"Yeah...but she's a pretty grup."

"Hah! Grup's aren't pretty."

"Are too!"

"Are not!"

The sound of a scuffle followed, the grunts and blow's muted as the antagonists rolled away from her.

Wondering what on earth children were doing in her bedroom, Wendy attempted to open her eyes, light stabbing painfully through her head as she opened them a crack.

"Ooooooh my head."

The scuffling sounds stopped instantly, the faint twitter of birds clearly audible in the sudden silence.

"It's alive," the awed whisper almost tempted Wendy to smile, only her mouth felt as dry as a desert, her tongue cleaving to her pallet.

"Run an' get the others, we'll 'ave to surround it 'fore it wakes...'urry!"

The patter of feet on leaves dragged Wendy once more back to the present and she attempted to prise her eyes open again, the light not so bright as she blinked rapidly to clear her vision. She lay staring up at a canopy of trees, swaying gently some distance above her head. Finding that sight somewhat at odds with what she expected, she turned her head slowly to where she'd heard the voices. Squatting on his haunches, an arrow notched in his bow, sat a boy dressed in skins and feathers, his face smeared with both dirt and paint, his eyes narrowed warily as he returned Wendy's stare.

"W-wh-o are you?" Wendy whispered, her throat working.

Instead of answering the boy turned his head in the direction his partner had gone. "TRACE...IT'S TALKIN' TO ME...'URRY UP!"

Turning back to face Wendy, the boy moved back, crab like, the arrow never wavering in its intent.

Moving her head to face away from him, Wendy stared up at the canopy again, her mouth working to find some spit to moisten her lips.

"I must be hallucinating," Wendy announced to the trees above her, her brain registering that it appeared to be sometime in the afternoon, the air pleasantly warm against her bare feet. Suddenly aware that she appeared to be only wearing her nightgown and nothing else, Wendy attempted to move, lifting her arms up to inspect them before rolling onto her side.

"TRACE!" The boy's high pitched wail brought a patter of feet into the clearing. While Wendy fought to get upright, a group of boys encircled her, their weapons all pointed with menacing intent. Sitting up at last, Wendy lifted her hand to sweep back her hair and stared at the children now around her.

"Oh...er...hello?"

"'oo are you an' what are you doin' 'ere?"

The boy that had asked was slightly taller than the others, but not by much, his green eyes hostile in his dirty face.

"I am Wendy and I don't know where here is."

The boys all exchanged looks, shifting slightly but not lowering their weapons.

"Grups aren't allowed 'ere...how did you get 'ere?"

"I have no idea. Would you mind not pointing those...things at me, it's very rude."

"Yup...she's a grup." Pronounced on of the boys solemnly, much head nodding following that statement. Wendy moved, tucking her legs under her to rise on to her knees. As one the boys moved back, the sound of bow strings stretching in readiness to shoot making her hold her hands up in surrender.

"Please...I won't harm you...don't shoot me!"

"You're a grup...grups aren't allowed on the island." One of the boys repeated.

"So you said...what island is this?"

The boys exchanged another looks, this time more puzzled than hostile.

"'ow can you not now the name of this island...you're on it?"

"Yes...I think we've established that...but I don't know where here is, or how I got here...so if you could just tell me where I am?"

"You're on Neverland lady." One of the boys answered, lowering his weapon despite a glare from the taller boy.

Wendy stared back at him, her mouth working but temporarily robbed of speech. Swallowing hard, she tried again.

"Neverland?"

"'course. Where else would ya be?"

"But...but...I..."

"I suppose we could take her as our prisoner." One of the boys suggested, some of the others nodding their heads in agreement.

"Shut up Fetter...she's a grup, and grups know the penalty for stepping foot 'ere."

"Penalty?" Wendy asked faintly, her hand rising to her throat as the boys suddenly looked grim. One drew his grubby finger across his throat in an unmistakable gesture.

"She's not like the usual grups...I reckon we should take her to Peter."

On hearing that name Wendy made to stand up, but the boys instantly returned to their hostile stance and she subsided back on to the leaf strewn ground.

"He's not back yet." The tall boy informed the company.

"Then we take her as our prisoner until he returns. All those in favor?" The one called Fetter held up his hand and all but the leader Crash, followed suit. Crash just scowled horribly, but didn't stop the others from lowering their weapons and approaching Wendy with a length of rope and a blindfold.

"Sorry to do this lady...but you're our prisoner 'til Peter decides what's to be done with ya."

Still hardly able to comprehend that she was somehow in Neverland, Wendy mutely held out her wrists and one boy bound them, securing her hands without cutting off the circulation. Another held out a length of grubby cloth which he flung over her head and covered her eyes with, knotting it behind her head.

Small hands steadied her as she scrambled inelegantly to her feet, Wendy swaying slightly as she found her balance. She could just see out the bottom of the blindfold and this gave her a measure of courage as the boys started to lead her out of the glade and along a forest path.

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"She's here." Stubbs announced in lugubrious tones.

"Here? In Neverland?"

"Dropped somewhere in the interior I imagine."

"Damn...any idea where?"

"Won't know unless the book shows us...or you sweet talk the fairies into letting you know."

"Damn and blast."

Stubbs watched his Captain pace the deck, his long legs carrying him back and forth in front of the ship's wheel, the seaman on duty ignoring the figure passing in front of his post.

"What are you're orders sir?" Asked Stubbs.

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It's too soon...if she see's me like this, she's get all the wrong idea."

"Didn't you tell me she wanted to be a pirate once?"

"What of it?"

"Well?" Stubbs shrugged his massive shoulders.

"That's not the point...she won't understand."

"You think she'll prefer the memory over reality."

"Something like that."

Stubbs rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest.

"Then what's the problem...just bat those baby blues and sweep her off her feet."

His Captain snorted and laughed out loud. The seamen at the wheel studiously stared straight ahead.

"I think you over estimate my powers of persuasion with the opposite sex."

"It worked last time."

"We were children then...I don't know."

Stubbs threw up his hands in frustration.

"Then leave her for Hook to find...he'll find a use for her."

In a blur of movement, Stubbs found himself backed up against the railing, his Captains arm against his throat and a pair of glittering eyes boring into his own.

"If he touches her..."

"Woah...Captain..." Stubbs wheezed, the pressure on his throat cutting off the air.

Instantly the arm was removed and its owner stalked off again to pace in front of the wheel.

Rubbing his sore Adam's apple, Stubbs cautiously approached the angry young man prowling like a tiger.

"The book'll tell us where she is...and we go get her...simple."

"Neverland is not exactly the best place for Wendy to be."

"But nevertheless, that's where she be. Your orders Captain?"

"Set a course for Castle Rock cove, we'll land there and set off in search of her, it's as good a place to start as any."

"Aye, aye sir...set a course south, southwest helmsman."

Stubbs approached the young man standing rigidly by the rail and patted him on the shoulder.

"We'll find her son...don't ya worry."

"Hah!...There's ample reason to worry, Stubbs...we have to find her before anyone else does!"

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The trip to the boys campsite didn't take long and soon Wendy was released from the blindfold and told to sit down. One of her captors brought her a half coconut shell filled with water which she drank gratefully. Another brought over a plate made of tree bark covered in a variety of fruit which she accepted, eating daintily with her bound hands as the boys watched her avidly.

Amused by their curiosity Wendy smiled at the boys, some of them shyly smiling back. Crash kept his forbidding scowl in place and sat with his bow still at the ready, his head turning frequently, obviously hoping for their leaders' return before too long.

Wendy was content to sit and wait, her abused feet, unaccustomed to tramping barefoot through the forest, were bruised from the twigs and rocks along the path. She had felt her heart lurch when the boys had mentioned Peter, a blush heating her face as she remembered what she'd done aboard the Jolly Roger. It had been only a little kiss, but she'd put all her heart into it, the results quite spectacular with Peter turning pink and zooming off into the sky like a firework.

As she sat listening to the boys' chatter, she tried to figure out her last memory before waking in Neverland. All she could recall was her head hitting the pillow, then nothing. She supposed the extraordinary book had something to do with it and she fumed at being plucked so precipitously from her life and carried back without her permission to Neverland once more. She assumed, quite rightly, that Peter had gathered together a new collection of Lost Boys to keep him company. Wendy felt a little piqued that he'd forgotten about her and her brothers, as well as the original Lost boys. And what was this business about "grups" not being allowed on the island? Surely the Indian's were "grups" too, and what about Hook's pirates? With Hook gone, didn't they live on Neverland now?

A cry brought all musing and conversations to a halt as every boy lifted his head to listen, Wendy as well. The raucous crow came again only closer and the boys scrabbled to their feet, forming up into a ragged line, pulling and tugging at their skins and rags in readiness for some sort of inspection. A rush of wind announced the arrival of their leader who landed behind Wendy with a thump, but before she could turn around a knife appeared at her throat and a youthful voice demanded to know what was going on.

"She's our prisoner Peter." Crash answered, saluting raggedly.

"Some prisoner...she's a grup and should be dead."

Alarmed at the pressure of the blade, Wendy tried to speak, but the boy behind her must have heard her intake of breath because the blade pressed closer and Wendy clamped her lips together to shut off the question she's been about to ask. The boys facing her, still in their ragged line, all looked frightened. Wendy wasn't sure whether they were frightened for her, or of Peter.

"She's a lady Peter...we didn't want to kill her before you met her." Fetter piped up, his eyes darting from Wendy's to the boy behind her.

"All grups are dangerous..haven't I drummed that in to you all yet?"

"Of course you have Peter...but...she's a lady." Fetter argued.

"Doesn't matter...ladies are the worst grups."

At this Wendy decided it was time to make herself heard.

"Peter...it's me...Wendy...please put that ridiculous knife down."

To the boys surprise, the knife was lowered and removed, allowing Wendy to twist around and face her attacker.

"Peter...it's...me..." Wendy's voice tailed off as she faced the boy called Peter, her eyes registering that the owner of the name was a complete stranger to her, his eyes the wrong colour, his hair the wrong shade. "You're not Peter!"

"'Course he's Peter!" One of the boys scoffed, their leader silently regarding Wendy with a scowl marring his features.

"Of course I'm Peter...Peter Pan...who else would I be?"

Wendy stared in confusion at the young man standing in front of her. He was an inch or two taller than the boy named Crash. He was clothed as she would have expected Peter to be, in leaves and skins, a sword hanging from his belt. But that was where the similarity ended. This boy had a mane of wild black hair tied back in a rough queue with a bit of twine, his fringe almost blinding him until he swept it back with an impatient hand, revealing eyes that shone darkly. His skin was also dark, not golden, his black brows matching the thick lashes bordering his eyes giving him a very dashing look. In all he was the antithesis of the Peter she remembered as golden like the sun, all honey skin and sea blue eyes in a laughing face.

"You may call yourself Peter Pan...but you look nothing like him." Wendy stated, turning her back on the youth, fighting the urge to cry.

"What would you know grup? You're just a stupid grup and now I'll kill you."

Before Peter could draw back his knife to strike the other boys suddenly swarmed around Wendy, Fetter standing between her back and their leader.

"We've never 'ad a lady 'ere before...I think we should take 'er back to meet Berry."

Placing his hands on his hips Peter tried to stare the boys down, all but Crash holding their ground as Peter paced back and forth in front, his eyes flashing fire. Abruptly his mood changed, the youth throwing back his head and letting go a whoop of laughter before slamming his sword back into its scabbard and leaping into the air.

"If you want her...you can have her. Let it be Berry's decision what's done with her."

Before anyone could speak he'd gone, shooting up into the sky and out of sight. There was a collective sigh and the boys drooped visibly.

"That was a close run thing...we was lucky this time." One of the boys muttered, the others nodding in agreement.

"Geez Fetter...I hope one grup is worth the hiding you're gonna get for standing up to him," said Crash, turning on his heel and marching away.

Fetter shrugged his skinny shoulders and hooked his bow over his shoulder before turning to walk around Wendy.

"He's all bluff an' bluster...mostly."

Wendy had remained a silent witness, her fate held in the hands of a group of grubby boys. "Thank you." She said quietly, still in shock to find her memory played so false.

"Come on...Berry will know what to do...she 'as Peter wrapped around her little finger."

Wearily Wendy, still bound, allowed the boys to pull her up and on to her feet, her face betraying the pain of bruises and cuts sustained on the trek so far. Pressing her lips together she followed the boys out of the campsite and along another path, the trip blessedly short this time. As the boys parted the undergrowth Wendy saw a massive tree set in the middle of a clearing, the ground around its' roots strewn with flowers and humps of bright green moss. A vine hanging down raised a door set in the trunk and Wendy followed the boys into the tree, bending down to avoid bumping her head. This time there was no painful slide, just a series of steps cut into the earth that led down to a wide room cut into the ground, in and around the roots of the tree. The smell of something delicious cooking assailed Wendy as she unbent to her full height and she heard her stomach rumble in anticipation. The boys were similarly afflicted and darted around her to bound across the room to a curtained alcove, calling out to the person beyond.

Wendy sank gratefully onto a crude wooden bench that ran the length of the rough hewn table set in the middle of the room. The table was strewn with the stumps of candles scattered amongst the remains of their last meal, bowls and cups laying where they'd been left.

"I'm Berry."

The softly spoken voice jerked Wendy from her musing, her eyes encountering wondering mossy brown that stared from a pretty face framed by long, straight black braids.

"You're one of the Indians?" Wendy blurted out in her surprise, blushing at her own rudeness even as the girl laughed.

"Yes...yes I am. And where have you come from Wendy Lady?"

"Another world...London, to be precise."

"London? I have not heard of that place...it is not in Neverland I think."

"No...definitely not in Neverland." Wendy straightened herself and held out her hands. "I believe it's been left to you to decided what to do with me."

Holding Wendy's gaze for a moment, Berry seemed to ponder for a moment before reaching behind her back and producing a wickedly sharp bowie knife. With a flick she cut the ropes binding Wendy's hands, ignoring the girls' uncontrollable flinch as the knife flashed in front of her face.

"Peter...ack, I can't call him that...it's not his real name anyway. Tomas is not normally so violent...he just doesn't like grups."

"Tomas?"

"The new Peter Pan...he was the first to arrive, so he became the new Pan, the others came not long afterwards."

"Oh...I once new a boy called Peter who was the Pan then...but it was a very long time ago."

Berry slid her knife back into the holder at the back of her belt before sitting down on the bench beside Wendy.

"Then he must have been the old Pan...they do change, you know." Said Berry, fiddling with one of her beaded braids.

"You don't seem surprised that I've been here before."

"Why should I be...if you were not meant to return, you would not be here."

Blinking, Wendy tried to unravel the girls logic.

"Meant to return?"

"Of course...did you not want to be here?"

For a moment Wendy could only open and close her mouth, not at all sure of her answer. Shaking her head she decided to leave that question unanswered and return to something else.

"You said the Old Pan, that they change...how do you know this?"

"It is told, a story of our tribe...handed down from parent to child, the old to the young, through many generations."

"How many Pan's have there been?"

"Not many...Tomas is only the third in recorded memory of the tribe."

"Berry...what happened to the old Pan..the one I knew?"

"I do not know...I was only very little at that time. You'd have to meet with my mother to know that story."

"Your Mother...but I understood from the boys...um..that grups weren't allowed on Neverland."

"They're not...according to Tomas's ruling. But that doesn't mean they don't. The constant battles to evict the grups is what give the boys something to do."

"Oh...I see...I think. So there are grups, but the boys are trying to get rid of them. Has anyone ever been killed in these battles?"

Berry laughed at Wendy's worried expression.

"You're such a grup...no one has been killed on Neverland since the great change."

"The Great change?"

"Later...I must get the boys' meal ready. Would you like to help?"

"If I can."

Berry rose to her feet and swung her legs over the bench. "If you can chop vegetables you can help."

"I think I can manage to do that. Thank you Berry."

"What for?"

"Well...for not killing me for starters."

Berry laughed, her braids swinging as she swung around. "Tomas is very naughty to tease you. He was probably just surprised, we don't usually get to capture lady grups very often."

"Oh...I'll have to take your word on that Berry."

"Come along Wendy Lady...the vegetables are waiting."

Feeling distinctly out of place, Wendy clambered off the bench and followed the slim Indian girl across the room and behind the curtain, her fate, for the time being, apparently settled.

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"Well...what did you find?"

"Nothing...she's gone...there was only the book."

The man withdrew the slim volume from his coat and handed it over to his employer.

"Damn...I expected to have more time. I'll have to return immediately. Our plans have changed Grant. Pack it up and dispose of the car, we leave tonight."

"Are we likely to return?"

"Very unlikely unless we can get to her before he does. You have your orders."

"Yes sir."

Hook waited for his minion to leave before opening the book. He placed it on the desk, staring for a moment at the cover, willing the coin medallion to come to life. When it remained dull and inanimate he used his hook to open the cover, flipping to the first page and reading the heading.

"Of Clocks, Crooks and Crocodiles." Hook read aloud, smiling thinly at the humor of the title. "Very funny I'm sure."

Turning the pages he saw images of himself from several years ago battling a boy with golden hair and a flashing sword. "I know this fairytale and it doesn't have a happy ending."

Snapping the book closed, Hook lifted it and slid it inside his jacket, tucking it into an inner pocket. Smoothing the material down he patted the slightly raised lump before getting to his feet.

If he was to return to Neverland, there was much to be done.

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The meal was boisterous and riotous, the boys cheerfully stealing food from each other's plates and pelting each other with the remnants. Wendy and Berry sat at either end of the table and regarded the boys with amused tolerance, Wendy smiling as their antics reminded her of the meals she used to enjoy with the Lost Boys so many years ago.

A loud crow announced Tomas's arrival into the hollow tree, his presence causing the noise level to rise to a roar as the boys cheered their leader. Tomas studiously avoided looking at Wendy but marched to the other end of the table to face Berry. He performed a creditable bow before leaning forward and giving the girl a swift kiss on the cheek which set Berry blushing.

"Any left for me?" Tomas asked, still ignoring Wendy.

Berry rose to her feet and hurried over to a shelf where she'd saved a portion of the meal for him. Tomas seated himself in her vacated chair and finally looked down the table at the newcomer.

"She's still alive then." He stated flatly, his dark eyes fixed on Wendy even when Berry placed a plate in front of him.

"Her name is Wendy." Berry reproved him, drawing his attention by tugging a lock of his untidy hair.

"Ow...hey, what was that for?"

"For teasing Wendy and for being rude."

"Rude?"

"You were staring."

"Was not."

Berry didn't bother to argue, just rolled her eyes and turned away from him. A brown arm shot out and gathered her around the waist, pulling her back to the table and propelling her into his lap.

Wendy tried to hide the smile threatening to break out, concentrating on the food in front of her and doing her best to ignore the giggling and horseplay taking place at the end of the table.

The boys ignored it all, obviously used to the byplay and not prepared to let it intrude on their meal. With their leaders' arrival the boys started to leave the table, drifting away to other parts of the room, either to play games on the floor or collapse on their rough beds for a well earned nap.

Wendy started to gather the plates, collecting the scraps together in one of the larger bowls but almost dropped the lot when Tomas banged sharply on the table top with the hilt of his dagger.

"There's no room for you here grup...Berry has decided to let you live, but you can't stay here."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Wendy replied stiffly, placing the dishes back on the table and drawing herself up. "If you'll just point me in the direction of the Indian village I'll go there."

"Tomas..." Berry started to speak but shut her mouth when Tomas turned to glare at her, slashing the air with the side of his hand.

"I'm not going to risk any of us to guide you...you're a grup, you find you're own way."

"But Tomas..."Berry tried again, a single finger held up to silence her this time. Infuriated, Berry flashed him an angry look and stalked off across the room to the curtain, brushing it aside and leaving him sitting at the table.

"Thank you for the food Tomas..." said Wendy politely.

"My name's Peter Pan." Tomas interrupted, leaping to his feet, his dark eyes flashing.

"If you say so...er...Peter. I'll go now."

"Good." Sitting back down, Tomas turned his head away and didn't watch as Wendy made her way to the sloping entrance. The other boys watched her with solemn faces as she turned one last time to smile at them, lifting her hand in a small wave before bending down and walking back up the passageway to the outside.

The boys waited for her to go out of sight before all talking at once. Tomas endured the babble of voice for a few seconds before once more bringing the hilt of his dagger down on the table like a gavel.

"No more...what's done is done."

Not willing to force a confrontation the boys went back to their pursuits. Fetter bit his lip for a moment before making his way to his sleeping mat, carefully lifting his knife from its hiding place. Working unobtrusively he hid his possessions about his person before rising to his feet and nonchalantly walking across to one of the ways out of the tree.

"Fetter?" Tomas' voice halted him in mid step.

"I need to pee." Fetter explained glibly, raising an eyebrow when he looked over at his leader for permission to leave. For a moment he thought Tomas would refuse but he didn't, waving his hand to release Fetter.

"Don't be long...we need to make plans for tomorrow."

"Back in a tick then." Fetter waved and scampered up one of the smaller tunnels to the outside, his heart hammering in his chest.

Once outside he looked about but Wendy had already left the vicinity of the huge tree. Scouting the ground he soon found her larger footprints leading off along one of the paths. Grinning to himself he paused momentarily to check his weapons, his fingers digging into a concealed pocket to pull out something that spun slowly on a gold chain as it hung from his decidedly grubby fingers. The acorn looked as fresh and green as if it had been plucked from the oak only that day, the hole showing the white flesh of the nut inside. Inspecting it, Fetter knew he'd seen the symbol of an acorn before, the flag bearing the design even now probably anchored somewhere off the coast of Neverland.

Tucking the pendant back into his pocket, Fetter looked down at the footprints once more before setting off to follow the Wendy Lady.

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TBC...


	4. Hide and Seek

9/09/05 

Title: To Have & To Hold

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Four - Hide and Seek

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Wendy crouched down into the ferns as far as she could go. The birds had warned her someone was coming and their shrill cries snapped her out of the daydream she'd been in, her feet carrying her she knew not where while her brain tried to unravel the mystery of her arrival in Neverland. She could hear voices approaching and tried to hunker down further into the greenery. The ferns grew very tall and lush and she hoped the men, whoever they were, would just pass on by. The tramp of boots on the leafy trail were loud and she held her breath, willing them to pass her without noticing.

"We'll have to call it a day soon...the suns dipping fast."

"We have to find her..."

"Not much use trying to in the dark...unless..."

"Unless what?"

"The fairies?"

"I ask too much of them as it is."

"Just a suggestion Captain."

Wendy could hear their voices clearly from her hiding place, her brow wrinkling as she strained to hear more, never once considering that it might be her they were seeking. Lifting her head, she could just see through the fronds to the path, the men passing steadily, but not urgently. The one in front was a tall, broad shouldered man dressed as she's expect a Captain to be, his trousers tucked into tall boots while his brown stuff coat was over-slung with a wide belt from which a sword dangled along with a brace of pistols. His hat was pulled well down on his head and he appeared to be wearing a black bandanna tied over his hair, as well as over the top half of his face leaving only his mouth and clean shaven chin visible above the collar of his shirt. Suspecting that the bandanna hid some deformity, Wendy passed on to the man following. He was taller than the Captain, his clothes not nearly so fine, in fact almost ragged, his broad torso crisscrossed by leather straps carrying an assortment of lethal looking weapons, his thick arms bare and sporting a wealth of colourful tattoos down the length of each limb, ending in fists that looked big enough to fell an ox.

Behind the leaders followed an assortment of their pirate crew, all dressed in oddments of clothing that looked surprisingly clean for such a motley collection of humanity. A bird suddenly flew up from behind Wendy's hiding place and she quickly ducked down as the men all stopped and stared across the meadow of ferns to where the bird flapped noisily away, its alarm call fading into the distance.

Unable to see what was happening, Wendy could only strain her ears to get a hint of what the men were doing. She could here hushed voices and prayed that they were moving along. A sudden yell and a scuffled almost caused her to scream in fright but it was someone else that the men caught several feet from her own haven.

"It's one of the boys Captain!"

"Bring him here...he may be able to tell us something."

Trembling Wendy could hear a string of curses issuing from the captive, presumably one of the Lost Boys that she'd left back at the tree. Lifting her head once more she cautiously stared through the fronds and watched as one of the burly sailors carried the kicking child towards the Captain who stood with his arms crossed, still standing on the path.

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Fetter struggled against the arm holding him around his middle, leaving his legs free to kick impotently with his arms trapped against his side. Twisting his head he tried to bite the arm of his captor but couldn't quite reach. As his teeth snapped together with an audible click the man holding him suddenly tilted him upright and swung him around so that he landed on his bare feet hard on the ground. Two hands clamped themselves on his skinny shoulders and Fetter tried to shrug himself free, quite unsuccessfully.

"Wotcha mean, manhandling me like that...I'm not a bleedin' parcel!"

"What's your name boy?" Asked Stubbs, leaning over the boy in a threatening manner.

"You don't scare me, you big ape...go boil ya head!"

"Feisty scrapper...should we just hang him now, or have some sport first?"

Fetter swallowed hard and turned his head to face the man in the black bandanna, the Captains eyes boring into his own from behind the mask.

"It's Fetter...sir...and please don't 'ang me...I 'aven't had my supper yet."

The Captain let out a burst of laughter, echoed by his crew.

"Okay Fetter...I won't hang you this time. What can you tell me about any strangers in these parts?"

"Strangers?"

"A woman to be precise...long, honey coloured hair, blue eyes, pretty...have you seen her?"

"Oh...that woman...maybe I have, maybe I haven't...depends."

Fetter suddenly found himself hoisted into the air and turned upside down, his ankles gripped by the first mate who shook him roughly, the boys belongings raining down on the path like misshapen droplets as he yelled his surprise.

One article instantly caught the Captains eye and he bent down to snatch up a length of gold chain holding a curious pendant.

"Now where did you get this Fetter?"

"I didn't steal it...I'm not a thief?"

At a signal from the Captain, the first mate turned the boy over and set him on his feet again, Fetter swaying as he fought to regain his balance after hanging upside down.

"If you're not a thief then you'll tell me where you found this trinket."

"It's her's."

The Captain crouched down to bring him face to face with his captive.

"I know...now where did you find it?" Placing his hand on the boys shoulder, the Captain smiled encouragingly at him, Fetter finding himself smiling back. "I won't harm her, I want to keep her safe, but I can't do that if somebody else finds her first. Now where is she?"

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Wendy watched in horror as the boy turned his head and lifted his arm, pointing directly to where she was hiding in the ferns. The pirates also turned to look, all eyes on the patch of greenery hiding her.

Scrambling to her feet and not bothering to look back, Wendy took off at a run, her skirts hitched up around her knees as she sprinted as fast as she could towards the trees, jumping over clumps of the ferns, her breath rasping in her throat.

She managed to reach the trees and darted into the coolness of the shadows, her hair flying out behind her as she dodged around a fallen trunk, the leafless branches catching at her gown and hair. Behind her she could here the sound of boots pounding the ground in pursuit, her heart leaping into her throat as she frantically searched the woods for a hiding place. Darting a glance over her shoulder she saw the masked Captain vault a fallen tree and she almost shrieked in fright, her terror lending wings to her feet as she darted left and right, branches snatching at her as she pushed her way through a thicket and burst into a clearing. She could no longer hear the sounds of pursuit above the pounding of her heart and thought, for a few brief seconds that she had lost him.

A moment later she found out she hadn't when someone tackled her from behind, a hard male body wrapping his arms around her as she fell headlong, twisting at the last moment so that he impacted the ground first before rolling them both over, again and again, eventually coming to rest in the long grass.

Wendy lay on her back, winded, her breath heaving in her chest, her vision blurred with tears of fright and frustration. Beside her, her captor also lay breathing heavily from his exertions. Rolling on to her knees, Wendy tried to get up only to find his hand wrapped around her ankle, shackling her and preventing her from rising. She kicked out and tried to dislodge him, but he simply grabbed the flailing foot and stilled that as well.

"Let me go you brute...unhand me at once!"

Rising to his knees, her captor let go of her ankles and reached for his hat which had been knocked off in the fall. Wendy quickly scooted backwards but her gown became caught and she fell onto her side.

"Here...let me help you." The voice had a thread of laughter in it and Wendy felt anger start to well up inside her.

"Don't touch me...you...you...brigand!"

"Such melodrama...you should've tried for a career on the stage."

"Don't laugh at me!" Wendy shouted at him, her fear forgotten in the face of his mockery. Realizing belatedly that she must look an absolute fright, Wendy tried to straighten her night gown, embarrassed to be showing far more leg than was decent, her hair hanging loose around her shoulders.

"I wasn't laughing at you...well, only a little." He grinned at her, beating the dust off his hat before putting it back on over his black bandanna. "Give me your hand and I'll help you up."

"I can manage myself...I suppose I'm your prisoner now."

"You suppose correctly...will I have to bind and gag you?"

"That won't be necessary...once in a day is quite enough for anybody."

The young man looked at her quizzically, but Wendy only lifted her chin and stared back at him. Rising to his feet he held out his hand to her, Wendy hesitating before placing her fingers against his palm. With a quick yank he pulled her to her feet. She stumbled and fell against him her hands flattening against his chest as he steadied her.

Under her fingers she could feel his chest move as he breathed, the faint patter of his heart before she shoved against him and moved back.

For a brief moment she had stared into his eyes, her own clear blue meeting his shadowed green, a jolt seemingly jumping the short distance between their bodies like a current of energy and causing her heart to jerk before she moved away.

"Come on...my men will be wondering what is taking me so long."

Seizing her wrist he pulled her along beside him, his long strides causing her to almost run to keep up with him. The trip back to the path beside the ferns took no time at all and Wendy found herself the object of a dozen pairs of curious eyes, not least of which was Fetter standing grinning beside the burly first mate.

"I was about to send a search party for you," the first mate said, a smug smile curving his mouth.

"Stow it, Mister Stubbs," frowned the Captain, wiping the smile from his first mates face.

"We're for the ship," ordered the Captain, his men instantly turning back the way they'd come, gathering up the bundles they'd set down when Fetter had been caught.

Still holding Wendy by the wrist, the Captain signaled for Fetter to come forward. Bending down, the man spoke to the boy.

"I thank you for your service...if ever a life at sea lures you away from the trees..."

"I prefer dry land...thank's anyway."

"Then begone brat...before I decided to hang you after all!"

Not bothering to answer, Fetter took to his heels, the men laughing as he scampered out of sight with a cheeky grin and a wave.

"You wouldn't really have hung him...would you?"

The Captain turned to look at his captive, her eyes wide with horror at the thought that he would harm a child. He only shrugged and turned away, tugging her along without answering her.

Wendy pulled against his hand, her head twisting to see back the way she'd come, Fetter already lost to sight amongst the dense trees.

"I can always get Stubbs to put you over his shoulder...if you continue to slow me down, that is."

Turning back to face him, Wendy all but bared her teeth at him, her back straight as she held her arm out to keep him as far away as possible.

"I prefer to walk without your restraint. You've already shown you can catch me if I try to run, so please release me."

Despite not being able to see his eyebrows, Wendy knew that the Captain was surprised, looking down at their still joined hands, his fingers slowly letting her go as if only just realizing that he still held her captive.

"You haven't told me your name?" He asked suddenly, his hand now resting on the hilt of his sword.

"Why do you need to know it?"

"It would make conversation more comfortable...but if you don't want to tell me, I can always give you a new name." He turned away and started to follow after his men along the trail, the burly Mister Stubbs bringing up the rear. "How about Bessy, or Daisy or Buttercup?"

"I'm not a cow, for heaven's sake..." Wendy muttered, having difficulty hiding a her chagrin.

"What about Petunia, or Rose...Lily?"

"First a cow, then a flower...my name is Wendy. Wendy Moira Angela Darling if you must know." She stared haughtily at a spot between his shoulder blades.

"Wendy...Wendy..." Her name rolled off his tongue like a caress and she flushed angrily.

"Now you know my name...what is yours? I would now who I am prisoner of, if you please."

"And if I don't please?"

Wendy pressed her lips together and turned her head, studiously admiring the trees and bushes.

"I'm known as Captain Black in these waters...that should satisfy your curiosity...for now."

As if tired of the bantering, the Captain strode on ahead, passing several of his men to make his way to the front of the column, leaving Wendy with the looming presence of Stubbs at her back.

With him gone, Wendy slumped with tiredness, the long day taking its toll on her strength and her reeling senses. They hadn't traveled for more than half an hour before she stumbled, Stubbs catching her before she hit the ground, instantly calling for Captain Black to attend.

"What is it?" He called impatiently, marching back down to line.

"She's all done in...reckon she can't walk another step." Stubbs explained, gesturing to Wendy sitting slumped on a log beside the trail. Noting her pale face and tightly held mouth, he nodded to his first mate before divesting himself of his pistols and sword, handing them to Stubbs for safe keeping.

Wendy heard him coming and rose to her feet, expecting him to order her onwards. Instead she found herself swept off her feet and hoisted into his arms, her own automatically clasping his neck and clinging with surprise.

"What are you doing?"

Already walking, the Captain merely pursed his lips and glanced sideways at her, shifting her slightly in his arms to improve his grip.

Wendy looked over his shoulder, back to Stubbs, who was grinning like a madman, one eyelid dropping in a wink as Wendy caught his gaze. She quickly looked away.

Being held so close she could feel the hard muscles in his arms shifting against her back and legs, his own covering the ground in an effortless stride as if he was carrying nothing more taxing than an armful of feathers.

She supposed she should really complain and ask to be put down, but in all truthfulness her feet hurt appallingly and every limb seemed to ache with tiredness. After the first few steps, when she was sure he'd drop her, she started to relax, her head dropping to her arm where it rested on his shoulder.

Feeling his burden relax in his arms, her body molding to his own, Captain Black smiled to himself with smug satisfaction, his eyes gleaming behind the concealing black silk of his hasty disguise.

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"The Nymph's been sighted Captain...berthed in Castle Rock cove."

Hook shifted his double cigar holder from one side of his mouth to the other, his eyes finding the cove on his map, the tip of his hook tracing into the interior of Neverland.

"So Smee...the hunt is on. Tell the helm to set a course for Sea Gull Bluff, we'll anchor there behind the headland overnight. If he's found her, we'll set an ambush and take what we want."

"Won't he be expecting that?" Smee asked, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Of course...this is an old game, just with a new prize. Get about your business Smee, and send Grant to me."

"Yes sir, Captain sir." executing a shaky salute, the old man left Hook to his plotting, conveying the message to the quartermaster before heading for the bridge and the helmsman.

Hook tapped the ash from his cigars before clamping the holder once more between his teeth, a cloud of pungent smoke curling around his dark head.

"Whatever you have, I will take...prepare thee well, Peter Pan."

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They made camp before full dark, Captain Black seating Wendy on a log covered with a thick blanket, his men well organized and quickly creating a secure campsite for the night. A small fire burned near to where Wendy sat and she welcomed the warmth now that the sun had dipped below the trees, plunging the forest into gloom, chill air seeping through the thinness of her nightgown. Unbelievably tired, Wendy wanted nothing more than to find herself back in her comfortable bed and being fussed over by her Aunt. Thinking of that dear lady brought tears to her eyes and a lump to her throat, a wave of homesickness making it hard to bite back the sobs threatening to break free. She stared into the flames and fought for control, not noticing the activity around her or the man watching her.

"You'll be aboard the Nymph tomorrow, a mite more comfortable than sleeping under the stars."

Wendy started at the sound his voice, her hand coming up to scrub at the wetness on her face.

"Is that your ship?"

"Yes."

"This is all so odd...I think I must be dreaming, but I've never had such a...a vivid dream before."

"This is no dream Wendy...you're here in Neverland, it's now night and I have food for you."

Looking up from her contemplation of her hands, Wendy saw him holding out a bowl that steamed in the cool air.

"Thank you." She sniffed appreciatively at the meaty broth before taking a cautious sip. Captain Black seated himself with his back against the log and drank from his own bowl, his hat discarded but the mask firmly in place.

Cradling her bowl in her hands, Wendy licked her lips and braced herself before speaking.

"You're not treating me much like I'd expect pirates to treat a prisoner."

"You mean with manacles and whips, rapine and pillage?"

"Something like that...you were looking for me...why?"

"I didn't want you to fall into...let's say, the wrong hands."

"You mean Hook, don't you?" She saw him nod his head. "But surely he's dead?"

"Not even close."

"But the crocodile?"

"Ah yes...the poor ol' croc. He didn't live long enough to enjoy his last meal."

"Oh." She drank some more of the cooling broth, her eyes once more staring into the flames. "Can I ask you something?"

"Certainly...although I give no guarantees I'll give you the answer you want."

"What happened to Peter Pan?"

"Haven't you already met him?"

"I met a boy named Tomas, who said he was Peter Pan...but he's not the Peter I knew when I last visited this island."

Staring down into his bowl, Captain Black swirled the contents before speaking again.

"What do you remember of this Peter Pan that you knew?"

Wendy smiled to herself. "Oh he was brash and arrogant, full of his own importance and unbearably smug."

"He sounds a scoundrel."

"He was, but he was also brave and courageous and could handle a sword very competently."

"You knew him well?"

"No...hardly at all, really...but he liked my stories and brought me here to be a mother to the Lost Boys."

"What did you want?"

"I was but a girl then...I was flattered that he wanted to hear my fairy tales, and it was exciting...exhilarating to be able to fly."

She paused, staring at the flames of the fire, remembering her last visit. "We fought pirates, saved a princess, danced with the fairies." She sighed heavily. "But he never came back...now it seems that he's gone from here...I just wanted to know what happened to him."

"He's still here...somewhere. Maybe you'll get to meet your Peter Pan again."

Wendy turned to regard the Captain as he tilted up his bowl to drain the dregs.

"Why were you looking for me?"

"I told you...to prevent you falling into the wrong hands."

"What does it matter to you...what possibly importance am I to this place?"

"Lets just say, I like to hold on to what is mine."

Before Wendy could reply to his puzzling remark he had risen to his feet and stalked away, tossing the bowl to one of his men to refill it. Shivering slightly, Wendy watched him hunker down to enjoy his second helping, his back to his prisoner.

"Here miss...wrap this around you, it can get cold at night."

Wendy looked up gratefully and took the blanket held out by the burly Mister Stubbs. Wrapping it around her shoulders she stared once more into the flames, the warm meal and leaping fire lulling her to sleep. Her head jerked up when the first mate spoke.

"He'll not harm you miss."

"Then why am I his prisoner?"

"To keep you safe, is all."

"Safe from what?" Wendy asked, frustration making her voice sharp.

"There are things you don't...can't know."

"Tell me."

"Not my place miss...the Captain'll bring you up to date in good time."

"Oh really...you're worse than him." She jerked her head in the direction of the Captain. "It's like pulling teeth getting anything useful out of either you!"

Stubbs chuckled, infuriating Wendy more. Getting to her feet she pulled the rug off the log and settled it on the ground before laying down on it and pulling the blanket around her ears.

To her surprise she fell asleep almost instantly, not feeling the extra blanket laid over her exposed feet by the man with the black bandanna.

Crouched beside her he watched her sleep, his hand reaching out to brush back a strand of errant hair that threatened to fall across her face.

"How long are you going to keep your identity from her?" Stubbs voice made him jump.

"Until I'm sure of her...until I'm sure of myself."

Stubbs snorted in amusement, grunting as he turned over in his bedroll.

Rising to his feet Captain Black checked on the night watch before finding his own bedroll and turning in for the night.

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The noise of the men packing up their temporary camp woke Wendy, the sun already well up. Folding her bedding neatly, she handed it to a sailor who came for it, watching as the fires left burning through the night were extinguished, the men disappearing into the bushes then reappearing after taking care of their morning ablutions. Wendy felt a pressing need herself but felt embarrassed drawing attention to herself.

"We don't have far to go, but you might want to...er...freshen up before we start?" The Captain's voice made her jump and she turned to face him.

"Thank you...that would be appreciated."

He indicated for her to follow him, a path leading them to a small brook and a stand of sheltering bushes.

"I'll be just down the path, call when you're...um...ready."

She watched as he spun on his heel and walked down the track, swallowed up by the trees almost at once.

Bending down she splashed her face and washed her hands before finding a convenient spot to relieve herself. Once more comfortable she performed a hasty toilette, shaking her skirts to get the worst of the dust of them. She heartily wished she had something more substantial than her nightdress to wear, despite its practical design and sensible coverage. Sighing, she tucked her hair behind her ears having nothing to brush it with, hoping that it didn't look too disheveled.

"Um...I'm ready." She called, the Captain appearing almost at once.

They arrived back at the camp to find everything read to go, the men standing waiting for their Captain to give the signal to move off.

"Do you want to be carried again?"

Wendy blushed and shook her head. "I'll walk thank you."

Shrugging, Captain Black turned away, Wendy biting her lip to quell the urge to call him back and ask to be held in his arms again. Angry at herself for thinking such ridiculous thoughts, she tilted her chin and stared straight ahead, falling in behind the sailors, Mister Stubbs behind her as before.

They reached the beach before the sun had time to clear the trees, the sound of the waves clearly audible before they could see any water.  
Wendy held up her hand to shield her eyes, staring out at the ship anchored in the bay. Two boats lay pulled up on the sand clear of the surf, the sailors already turning them over and preparing to haul them down to the water's edge. Wendy squinted up at the sky, the sun warm on her face after the cool night, her hair blown back by a stiff breeze that molded her nightgown to her figure. Unaware that she was revealing more that she would have wanted to, had she known, Wendy stood on the sand, eyes closed as her toes burrowed into the soft surface, her lungs breathing deeply of the clean sea air. Captain Black stood looking back up the beach, his eyes drinking in the sight, the breeze plastering the thin gown to Wendy's legs and body, revealing her shapely limbs and enticing figure.

Wendy opened her eyes and instantly became aware of several appreciative male eyes turned in her direction. Captain Black stood a little way off, his hands on his hips, a grin stretching his mouth wide. Feeling her gown flap about her legs, Wendy looked down and only then realised how revealing the wind was making her clothes. Blushing in mortification, she turned, the wind billowing her nightdress and once more clothing her in decency. The men turned back to their work, but Captain Black remained where he was, waiting for Wendy to join him on the beach. She did so reluctantly, still burning from the heat of his admiring gaze.

"Would it be asking too much to find out why you were wandering around Neverland clad only in your nightgown?"

"I wasn't given a choice in garments...I don't suppose you have women's clothes aboard your ship?"

"As if so happens...I might have something you'll find more suitable."

"I doubt is it could be any less." Wendy muttered, plucking at her gown as the wind caught it and threatened to lift it above her calves.

Leaning forward, Captain Black, still grinning, snagged a strand of her hair and wound it around a finger, holding her near as he spoke in her ear.

"I think what you're wearing has a charm all of its own."

Drawing in a sharp breath, Wendy turned her head to retort but found herself instead almost nose to nose with the Captain, his eyes glittering behind his scarf, his mouth relaxing from its wide grin as they traded stares, suspended in time until someone coughed and broke the spell.

"We're ready for you to board Captain." Mister Stubbs announced.

Wendy saw Captain Black open his mouth to reply but never heard him speak as she was thrown to the sand, yells and the report of pistols suddenly filling the air around her.

Pushing her hair out of her eyes, Wendy stared upwards, finding herself shielded behind the Captain and his first mate, their booted feet shifting in the sand as they fought off a swarm of attackers, the sailors from the boats joining the fray as more of the enemy appeared from the trees. Wendy struggled to her feet, ducking when a pistol ball whizzed past her head, her hands clapped over her ears to blot out the sounds of the fighting as swords clashed and men screamed. Someone grabbed her arm and she screamed, finding herself dragged backwards towards the water.

"Get in the boat!" The Captain yelled at her, pushing her towards the long boats as he turned to fight off a fierce attack from two sides. Wendy stumbled then righted herself, picking up her skirts and running to the waterline. The sailors of the Nymph were starting to beat back the ambush, Stubbs roaring as he punched pirate, after pirate, laying his enemy on the sand as he fought to aid his Captain.

Black found himself hard pressed, two pirates taking his attention from Wendy, their blades slashing the air and causing him to duck to avoid losing his head. He heard Wendy scream and turned, narrowly avoiding a knife thrown by the nearest pirate. A pistol discharged and he felt something burn against his side. One of his attackers pitched forward and his first mate stepped over the body, turning to draw off the other as his Captain turned to find Wendy struggling to fend off another pirate, already half tossed over his shoulder she continued to kick and punch her abductor.

Ignoring the pain in his side, Captain Black lunged at the pirate, knocking him over, Wendy rolling to the side as the two men traded blows, the fight taking them both into the surf. The pirate decided he'd had enough and landed a blow that felled the Captain, then the brigand took to his heels and fled, leaving his victim to drown.

Wendy, sobbing with fright, staggered into the surf and tried to drag the Captain free of the waves, her arms barely able to keep his head out of the water as she screamed for help. Suddenly men were all around her and willing hands lifted the Captain from her grasp, someone wrapping a blanket around her and pulling her from the sea to sit, wet and shivering on the sand.

"Get everyone in the boats and let's pull for the ship!" Stubbs ordered, the men lifting their fallen Captain into one of the long boats, Wendy gathered up and lifted into the other. Then with a mighty push the two boats were launched, the beach left scattered with the bodies of injured and unconscious pirates, the Nymph's crew taking their wounded with them.

Wendy sat huddled in the bottom of the boat, her teeth chattering as she pulled the sodden blanket more closely around her. The men strained at the oars as they breached the surf close to the beach, the occasional pistol shot still peppering the air as the boats pulled away from the shore. Once past the breakers the men kept up their rhythm, the sun beating down on Wendy's unprotected head as the ship out in the bay came closer and closer.

As the dark side of the ship bumped against the first long boat, Wendy watched as the sailors lifted their wounded into a net lowered over the side. With men to stop the net bumping against the planking, the injured were lifted over the rail and on to the deck. Wendy refused when the same mode of transportation was offered to her, and gamely negotiated the rope and wood ladder that hung over the side. By the time she reached the rail she was shaking with reaction and strain, someone scooping her off her feet and carrying her out of the burning sun and into a cabin below decks. She lay shivering on the bunk listening to the sounds of the ship being prepared to sail, the thud of feet on the deck, the clank of the anchor chain being winched aboard, the snap of sheets filling with the wind. Feeling the ship move, she decided to sit up and see what her prison was like. Sitting on the side of the bunk she found herself in a neatly appointed cabin as unlike a prison as it was possible. As the shaft of sun from the small porthole shifted across the floor with the turn of the ship, Wendy stared at the few items that adorned her accommodation. In the corner stood a small chest of drawers, its top bordered by a brass rail to stop anything falling off. Screwed to the bulkhead was a round mirror with a delicate filigree frame. Next to the chest stood a metal framework wash stand with a large porcelain bowl set snugly in the top, a chamber pot underneath and a side holder for a jug. The bunk fitted the length of the cabin with only enough room to stand up between the bed and the chest and washstand. It was tiny but neat and clean.

Shrugging off the wet blanket, Wendy stood up to investigate the drawers. The first revealed an assortment of women's undergarments in different styles, shapes and colours. The second drawer revealed a selection of skirts and blouses, all tidily folded and sweet smelling with lavender strewn between the folds. The third drawer was compartmentalized and held brushes, pins, bottles and jars of all description.

Slightly overwhelmed, Wendy staggered a little on her way to the door. The ship was riding the swells and she still had to find her sea legs, putting out her hand to steady herself when they hit a particularly large wave. On reaching the cabin door she tried the handle and found it unlocked. Pulling it wide she stuck her head out, finding the corridor empty, a lantern swinging back and forth from the low ceiling outside her door.

Puzzled, Wendy went back into her cabin and shut the door. Finding it all to much to sort out, she decided to get rid of her salt stained nightgown and finally become decently dressed. A bucket had been left outside and she poured this into the basin, more than happy to wash off the sand and salt before stripping off her ruined nightgown and using one of the small towels to dry herself. A quick rummage found her a selection of underclothes, along with a skirt and matching blouse to wear. With dry clothes and once more decently covered, Wendy felt some of the strain leave her, humming to herself as she dragged a brush through her hair in a familiar routine before pinning it up as neatly as she could with the aid of the pins and the small mirror.

Feeling much more able to cope with whatever fate, or Neverland had to throw at her, Wendy once more opened the cabin door and stepped out.  
Seeing a door at the end of the companionway, she headed towards it, her bare feet noiseless on the smooth planking of the deck. Pulling open the second hatch, she found herself out on the main deck, the men swarming up into the rigging as Mister Stubbs bellowed orders from above and behind her. Keeping within the shadow of the doorway, Wendy watched as the crew unfurled more sail, the ship fairly leaping over the waves as the wind filled the sheets, straining the rigging. Keeping to the cabin wall, Wendy made her way to the railing and stared out at the sea, the ship cutting through the waves as she rounded a headland. Turning her head to let her hair whip free of her face, Wendy stared back at another ship apparently following them some distance behind.

"Excuse me miss." Stubbs voice at her elbow made her jump and she stared apprehensively up at the first mate.

"I was wondering miss...have you had any experience with nursing?"

Wendy stared at him blankly. "Well...no. Don't you have a ship's Doctor?"

"Yes we do...but there were several men injured in that fight. I was hoping..." She stared as Stubbs, a man that topped her by at least a foot in all directions, shuffled his feet.

"Can I help in some way?" She finally said, putting the big man out of his discomfort.

"If you would...it's the Captain see..."

Wendy felt her heart pound. "He's not...I mean..."

"Oh no...nothing fatal."

"Thank goodness."

"If'n you'll come this way..?" Mister Stubbs indicated for her to go back through the hatchway she'd come through.

Halfway along the passage they could hear someone calling out.

"STUBBS!...you blackguard, where the hell are you!...STUBBS!"

The big man squeezed past Wendy and opened the door first, ushering her into the room which proved to be a much larger cabin with a bed on which Captain Black sat on the side attempting to take off his shirt which appeared soaked in blood. Not noticing Wendy off to the side, he cursed roundly, his breath hissing between his teeth as he eased the cloth unsuccessfully away from the wound below his ribs.

"Get the Doc, Stubbs...this is worse than I thought." Black groaned, his fingers shaking as he tried again to ease off the shirt.

"Mister Stubbs, I'll need a bowl of water and some cloth for bandages. And please send the Doctor when he's free from tending the other men."

Wendy's voice made the Captain jump, his mouth twisting in a grimace as it wrenched his side. "Dammit!"

Shooing the big man out of the cabin, Wendy approached Black.

"You need to get out of your clothes if we're going to clean that injury, they're soaked and you'll likely catch a chill."

For a long moment Wendy stared calmly into the still masked eyes of the Captain, her heart pounding as she strived to overcome her nausea at the sight of so much blood.

"Under different circumstances..." He gave her a lopsided grin which quickly faded as he leaned over to the side and quietly passed out again. Wendy darted forward and struggled to lift his legs onto the bunk, easing him onto his uninjured side, his head on the pillows, still covered in its black bandanna. Shifting his arm she pulled up the lined shirt to uncover the injury. At that moment Mister Stubbs returned with the requested items and sat them on the washstand beside the bed.

"Can you get his boots off Mister Stubbs...and I'll need something to cut this shirt off with."

Without hesitating, Stubbs handed her a dagger, watching as she sliced up the back of the shirt and along the arm, cutting away the material from the unconscious man's wound. Ripping off the cleaner parts of the shirt, she dipped it in the water and proceeded to clean up the Captains' torso which was gory with blood. Several rags later she had revealed the extent of his injury, a pad of clean linen quickly pressed against the hole to prevent it bleeding further. Stubbs had removed the Captains' boots and his socks, along with his breeches when Wendy turned her back to rinse out the cloth. Now he lay without a stitch, a sheet preserving his modesty and only the black bandanna on his head.

Wendy had hardly paid much attention to the expanse of sun bronzed skin laid bare for her inspection she'd been so intent on cleaning away the gore and discovering the nature of his injury. She was quite familiar with youthful male anatomy, having several brothers of her own, but when he was finally clean and ready for the doctor to inspect she stood back and found her breathing a trifle erratic as she stared at the first naked adult male she'd ever seen. Forgetting that the first mate was still in the cabin, she let her eyes wander over the broad shoulders and well muscled arms ending in strong hands with long, sensitive fingers. His legs under the concealing, if thin sheet, were long and tapering, the feet nicely proportioned. The sheet lay across his abdomen, just below his belly button, the white material showing off the golden colour of his skin, the tight muscles of his belly leading up to his ribs and chest, the skin stretching and moving with each breath, a pulse beating strongly at the base of his throat. All this Wendy took in as she moved to remove the still wet black bandanna covering his face and head.

Mister Stubbs opened his mouth to protest but then shut it without saying a word as Wendy reached behind his Captains' head and undid the knot securing the scarf. Pulling it forward and off, Wendy clutched it to her chest and stared down at the young man revealed to her startled gaze. His face was unmarked, the full mobile lips parted above the strongly rounded chin. A straight nose leading up to darkly curved brows above the closed eyes, thick dark lashes resting against his cheeks. Dark blond curls swept over his forehead, almost reaching his brows, cut back short over his ears, the back barely reaching the nape of his neck.

"There's nothing wrong with his face...in fact he's...he's.." Wendy almost found herself saying beautiful, but stopped herself in time. She stared at the black bandanna in her hand and turned a questioning look on the first mate who appeared to find the roof of the cabin inordinately interesting.

Before she could question him further, the door opened and a rangy young man stood framed in the opening.

"Ah good, you've got him cleaned up...now if you'll let me do my job, we'll see about getting him back on his feet again."

Finding herself bustled out of the room along with the first mate, Wendy didn't have time to protest, the door shut firmly in their faces before they could do more than turn around.

"The Doctor?" She asked, glancing up at the man beside her.

Stubbs nodded and turned to leave her, his arms full of the dirty rags she'd used to bathe the Captain.

"Mister Stubbs..." Wendy began but the first mate only stopped long enough to give her a quick grin before ducking out of the door at the end of the passageway and leaving Wendy on her own.

Abandoned and apparently of no further use, Wendy walked the few steps that would bring her to her own cabin door and opened it. Inside someone had taken away her damp nightgown and the wet blanket, leaving a tray of food and drink for her in their place.

Sitting on her bunk she stared out at the sea, surprised to see the sun starting to dip towards the horizon already.

Suddenly tired beyond belief, she ate sparingly of the meal and drank some of the sweet wine before laying down fully clothed and closing her eyes.

For now Neverland, with its surprises, shocks and secrets would simply have to wait.

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tbc...


	5. Getting Acquainted

11/09/05 

Title: To Have and To Hold

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Five - Getting Acquainted.

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Mr.Arnold Bennett Senior knocked smartly at the door of number 23, his hat jammed onto his head to prevent it flying away with the force of the gale whipping along the street. The door opened a crack and he perceived the wan face of a maid.

"So sorry to intrude, but I wonder if I may speak to the lady of the house?"

"Missus is not accepting visitors at this time, Sir." Amy told him, sniffing.

"Then could I speak to Miss Wendy Darling?"

At the mention of that name the maid burst in to noise sobs and threw her apron over her face. Pushing the door wide, Mr.Bennett stepped past Amy and across the threshold, into the front entrance. Doffing his hat and coat upon the elaborately carved stand placed in the hallway for that purpose, he surveyed the choice of doors available for a moment before marching purposefully through the one on his right.

On opening the door he paused on the threshold and beheld Wendy's Aunt sitting beside a desultory fire, a scrap of lace held to her face to stem the constant flow of tears.

"Dear lady, I am here to assist in any way I can."

Hearing his voice, Millicent jumped and twisted around in her chair.

"Oh Mister Bennett...I'm so sorry, Amy should have announced you..." She waved her hands in a vague motion. "We're all at sixes and sevens today, it's so upsetting."

Sitting himself down opposite the distraught figure, Arnold Bennett waited for Wendy's Aunt to gain control of herself. Judging the lady to be more calm, Arnold spoke again.

"Am I to understand something has happened to the dear girl?"

"I fear something dreadful...oh my heart."

"Let me ring for tea, then you can fill me in on all the details."

Rising to his feet, the spry gentleman pulled the bell cord and waited for Amy to appear. After ordering tea, he once more sat beside the fire.

"A reviving cup of tea will set you up...just the ticket."

When the trolley arrived he poured and watched Millicent drink half her cup before continuing.

It was a measure of how distraught Millicent was that she didn't question how Mr.Bennett appeared unsurprised by Wendy's disappearance. She was only glad that he was there to lend support and sympathy.

"Now tell me what you know, dear lady."

Thus coaxed, Millicent told him what she knew. Added to the girls disappearance was evidence that someone had broken in, Wendy's bedroom quite ransacked although Millicent had not been able to determine if anything had been taken, other than the girl herself. When consulted, the maid confirmed that, apart from a night gown, all Wendy's clothes and belonging seemed to be exactly where they should be, albeit cast about by the intruder.

Arnold listened to the tale and sipped his tea, a speculative look in his eye as he made his own conclusions from the evidence.

"...and the police are looking for her now, but they don't seem to hold out much hope. They think she might have run away, but I explained there was no reason for her to do so...and only in her nightgown? Whoever heard of such a thing!"

"Rest assured, dear lady, that I think it very remote that Wendy has run away, as the police suppose."

"Oh I do agree...but what has happened to her, and who broke into her room?...Oh I fear something terrible has become of my dearest niece."

"Have her parents been apprised of the situation?"

"I've sent a letter to Brighton. They're visiting relatives there, and the police needed to contact them as well, in case Wendy gets in touch with them somehow."

"I see that you have done all that can be done...here. I will leave you now and call back in a few days to see if there is any news."

"Oh dear...my poor Wendy...what awful things must she be going through?" Millicent buried her face once more in her scrap of lace.

Saying his goodbyes, Mr.Bennett gathered up his hat and coat and quickly left the house, the wind snatching at his hat as he ran down the steps and into the street.

For a relatively elderly man, Arnold Bennett moved with the grace and speed of a much younger person, reaching his bookshop in record time. After entering the shop and locking the door behind him, he moved towards the back of the shop, shedding his overcoat and hat quite carelessly as he went. At the rear of the room it was quite dark, no light from the street penetrating the gloom. With unerring accuracy his fingers found a section of the wall and pushed, a panel sliding aside to reveal a wall safe. Deftly turning the combination lock and twisting a key, he opened the safe and pulled out a number of articles hidden within. Still in the dark, he carried the items to a map table before searching out a lamp and lighting it. The glow shone on a strange assortment of articles including a sword, spyglass and a gold chain.

Lifting the chain in his fingers Arnold held the medallion towards the lamp to inspect the coin twirling on the end.

It was the same as the one on the cover of the book.

Slipping it over his head he then buckled on the sword belt over his navy blue second best suit. A leather pouch was the next item to be tucked away upon his person, its contents not inspected but secreted into an inner pocket for safe keeping. The spyglass disappeared into another pocket before he considered himself ready, then he shut the safe and locked it again before carrying the lamp towards the front of the shop where he found some paper and wrote a note to his brother. That done he left it in plain view on the counter and then found another piece of paper to fix to the glass on the front door as explanation for why the shop was to be shut for a number of days.

His tasks completed he picked up the lamp and returned to the back of the shop, picking up his discarded outer garments and approaching a large wardrobe situated at the end of a bookshelf. There he hung up his much abused coat and hat and took out two other garments, also a hat and coat, but of a quite different tailoring to the first two.

The coat was elaborately embroidered and fashioned from a time long gone, the hat the same colour as the coat with a richly edged brim and flowing ostrich feather bobbing jauntily from the crown. Shrugging himself into the coat, he then placed the hat almost reverently on his grey head. Peering into a small mirror set in the door of the wardrobe, he winked at his image.

"Captain Aramis of the Nymph, at your service sir."

Adjusting the tricorn at a jaunty angle, Captain Aramis, previously known as Arnold Bennett, book shop proprietor and collector, pulled the gold medallion from around his neck and held in his hand. With the other he reached inside his coat and into the leather pouch, withdrawing a finger full of powder.

"Should only take a snippet of the stuff...now what was that incantation again?...Ah yes, I remember."

Cradling the medallion in his hand he sprinkled the glittering powder over the surface, his lips moving as he recited the fairy spell under his breath.

The medallion started to glow, the light eclipsing the feeble flame of the lamp which Arnold, now Captain Aramis hastily doused before the medallion whisked him away. The light grew quickly then winked, just as suddenly, out of existence taking the man with it and leaving the shop once more cloaked in shadows and the unmistakable smell of books.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

The smell of something delicious greeted Peter when he opened his eyes. He'd been lying for some time playing possum, his side aching abominably after Harry's less than gentle ministrations. Thankfully he'd remained oblivious while the Doctor plied his needle after removing the lead shot in his side, only waking when Harry pulled him about to wrap linen bandages about his middle.

Now he lay blinking slowly up at the vision sitting beside his bed, a bowl of something tasty sending up curls of steam from its place on the tray in her hands.

"I've brought you something to eat...if you're feeling up to it?"

Shutting his eyes again he made to move himself further up the bed and had to stifle a groan as his side protested loudly. He heard her put the tray down beside the bed, then felt her small hands try to lift him, her touch on his bare skin sending prickles of sensation skittering over his flesh. Opening his eyes he found himself very close to the object of his dreams, her eyes meeting his as she leant over the bed to assist him.

"I'm sorry did I hurt you?" Her lips parted to form the words and he was sure he'd heard them, but all he really wanted to do was reach up and taste them, to find out if her lips were as sweet as they looked.

For a long moment they did nothing but stare at each other, Peter finding out that there were tiny flecks of gold in her eyes and a smattering of pale freckles across her nose. Suddenly warm colour started to stain her pale skin and she pulled away, lowering her lashes to hide her reaction to him.

"I'm afraid I can't seem to move you."

Licking his lips, Peter swallowed hard, tamping down his bodies reaction to her closeness.

"Er...I wouldn't say that," he muttered as he struggled to lift himself higher on the pillows, his face twisting with pain from the effort.

The sheets and blanket that had covered him from the chest down slipped further and he had to grab at them to avoid being laid bare, Wendy's face coloring further as she made a move to help him but stopped, suddenly unsure of herself around him.

Exhausted even by that small effort, Peter lay back on the pillow and panted, his fingers going to the wad of bandages covering his wound.

"Does it hurt so much?" Wendy asked, seating herself once more beside the bed and reaching for the tray.

"It hurt worse before...Harry is a great Doctor, but a terrible nurse." He grinned, wincing when even that small movement caused a twinge.

"The men are all busy up top," Wendy flicked her eyes up to the ceiling of the cabin, the sound of feet on the planks clearly audible above the creaking of the ship and the slap of water against her hull.

"Are we still being pursued?"

"Yes...it's Hook isn't it."

"Wendy...I..." He started, but Wendy spoke at the same time and his words tailed into silence.

"Why did you hide your face from me? You're not injured, or scarred or lost an eye, like some men. Why did you wear the mask?"

"I didn't know...wasn't sure..." He stammered, finding her intent gaze uncomfortable.

"Didn't know what? Didn't know if I would recognize you? I know it's been six years and we've both grown up a lot since we last met...but surely you didn't think I'd forgotten you...Peter."

Dropping his eyes to the covers, he fidgeted with them, suddenly not at all sure of what to say. Wendy apparently didn't seem to have that problem.

"And why not tell me who you were? Even if you didn't recognize me after all these years...my name would have surely jogged your memory"  
She looked down at her hands. "Maybe you had forgotten me...maybe there have been so many that I was just not memorable enough."

"NO!...No...I just...I couldn't assume." He stopped, finding it difficult to articulate with her wide blue eyes fixed on his face. He drew in a breath and started again. "A lot has happened since you were last in Neverland...to me, to the island...to everything." He plucked at the sheet and stared intently at the stitching. "I didn't tell you who I was...I disguised myself because..." He grimaced again.

"Because why?" Wendy coaxed, her hand tentatively reaching for his.

"Because I was afraid." Peter whispered, colour stealing over his face.

He peeped up through his lashes to steal a glance at Wendy's face. She looked a little stunned, as if the possibility of Peter Pan being afraid had simply never crossed her mind. He saw her brows draw together as she puzzled over his answer.

"You were afraid...of me?" She stared blankly at him, trying to understand and failing miserably.

"Not of you exactly...I thought...it had been so long...and I.." He gestured down at himself, at the changes wrought by the six years. "You carried on with your life...as if nothing happened. It was as if you'd never been anywhere, or done anything...or met anyone." He struggled to find the words. Wendy continued to gaze at him with bewilderment.

"You forgot about me!" He finally spat out what had been eating at him.

Wendy gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. He saw the split second when her confusion turned to anger.

"I forgot about you? What about you forgetting about me? What happened to coming back for spring cleaning? What happened to coming back and listening to more stories?" Her voice had risen until she was shouting, her eyes darting sparks at him.

"I did!" Peter shouted back, gritting his teeth at the flare of pain that spiked his side. "The book would have told you that!"

"The book? And that's another thing...who said you could drag me away from my life and dump me in the middle of nowhere? That blasted book, I suppose that was your funny idea of having your own way!"

"What's that supposed to mean? I don't control the book...if anything, it controls us...me...Neverland."

"I want to go home...now!"

Peter stared up at Wendy and marveled how her eyes had became brilliant sapphires, her cheeks flushed with colour, her chest heaving in her indignation, a sight to inflame any red-blooded male. As quickly as his anger had flared it died, his scowl lifting with his lips, a twinkle making his own eyes sparkle as he smiled smugly at her enraged expression.

"Anyone ever tell you you're beautiful when you're cross."

Like a pricked balloon, Wendy's face fell in surprise, her anger replaced by bafflement. Peter watched as a range of emotions crossed her face, her fight to prevent her lips from curling into an answering smile apparent as he relaxed against the pillows and put an arm behind his head with nonchalant ease.

Finding herself at a loss as to what to say, Wendy decided to give in to the overwhelming urge to smile, her lashes sweeping down to hide her eyes, still not willing to surrender entirely.

"You are impossible...incorrigible...and you still haven't answered any of my questions, not really." She finally muttered, sitting herself back on the stool beside the bed and lifting the tray of broth onto her lap in readiness to feed him.

"I'm sorry you weren't given a choice...if it's any consolation..neither was I, to grow up that is." Peter murmured.

He watched Wendy fiddle with the spoon, stirring the bowl of rapidly cooling food as if her life depended on it.

"I don't mind," she flicked her eyes up to look at him briefly. "I never really forgot about you...or Neverland...not entirely."

"I know...that's why," Peter bit his lip, "that's why the book picked you."

"Picked me?" Wendy looked up at him, the spoon stilled for the moment.

"Yeah...the book chose the person with the strongest connection to Neverland, the one person, in your world, who had the strongest memories of me."

"I don't understand...I was brought here because I remembered you?"

"Kinda," He suddenly found a crease in the bed covers very interesting.

"But that's not the only reason...is it?"

"No."

"Peter?"

He looked up and sucked in a breath, wincing when the movement tweaked his side. "I wanted you here."

Hot colour suddenly flooded his face and he looked away, looked down, anywhere but at the girl sitting beside his bed.

"Peter...why did you want me here?" The tray had been put back on the side table and Wendy was leaning forward, her hand resting on the covers, scant inches from his own hand. He'd only have to move it a fraction to touch her, his fingers already itching to cover her slender digits and enclose her hand within his own.

"I-I...er...I..." He stammered. Wendy was very close and Peter looked up, drowning in her eyes as she closed the distance between them, pulled by the invisible thread that had been forged between them so many years ago and never really broken.

Wendy turned her head so that she had her mouth close to his ear.

"Peter...I think I'd like to give you a...thimble." Wendy's whisper wafted over his cheek and neck sending goose bumps springing up all over his body, his eyes closing briefly as he listened to the thunder of his heart.

Licking his lips, Peter waited for her to pull back slightly, his breathing becoming quite irregular.

"I'd like that." He croaked, watching the pulse just visible at the base of her neck beating rapidly under her white skin.

He saw Wendy's lips tilt at the corner, his own doing the same as they traded shy smiles. Ever so slowly Wendy lowered her head until they were almost nose to nose. The world seemed to shrink down to just that moment, all sound and motion stilled as the distance between them closed to nothing.

"And how is my patient this morning?" The Doctor's hearty voice splintered the moment into pieces, Wendy pulling away and turning her back to the door to hide the flood of colour in her cheeks.

Peter groaned inwardly and lifted a shaking hand to cover his eyes, frustration evident in every line of his taught body.

"Your timing, as always Harry, is...inevitable." Peter said, lowering his hand and grinning ruefully at his friend who stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the door frame, eyebrows raised.

"I'll visit later," he heard Wendy whisper before she whisked herself out of the room, muttering a good morning to Harry before disappearing from his sight.

Harry pushed himself off and came to sit on the edge of the bunk, surveying Peter's heightened colour with an amused smirk.

"Pretty piece...taken?"

Peter felt himself tense. "Yes."

"I see...no need to look daggers at me, I just made an observation." Harry wiped the smile from his face and adopted the expression he reserved for recalcitrant patients who didn't follow his instructions. "Did you sleep well?"

"I've slept worse." Peter replied as Harry pulled back the bed covers to inspect the bandages, poking and prodding and watching Peter's face.

"How's it feeling?"

"Fine until you poked it." Peter hissed, turning onto his side when Harry indicated for him to do so. "And you interrupted my breakfast."

"Oh, was that what I was interrupting," Harry prodded around Peter's side to gauge the extent of the bruising, his patient moaning softly when he hit a sore spot. Satisfied, he eased Peter onto his back and inspected the bruise that discolored his forehead, brushing back his Captain hair to prod at the skin.

"If you weren't such a good Doctor I'd have you flogged for walking in on me like that."

"Tsk...you'll have plenty of opportunities to play the wounded hero."

"Not if I don't get any privacy," Peter muttered, ignoring Harry's scornful snort.

"Well it didn't look as if you're going to have any problems in that quarter at least. All you have to worry about now is making sure you can keep her." Harry leant over the bed and picked up the bowl of broth.

Taking the bowl from Harry, Peter started to spoon the now cold meal into his mouth, grimacing at its lack of heat.

"Is Hook still shadowing us?"

"The Jolly Roger has sat off our port beam, just out of cannon range, since yesterday. How are you planning on losing him?"

"I was thinking Cannibal Creek..."

"Ah...the passage through The Sisters and duck over the bar at high tide?"

"Yup."

"With the Nymph so much faster and higher in the water, he'd be a fool to try and follow you over the bar and through the shallows."

"That's what I'm hoping...give Stubbs his orders and bring me the map of that area."

"Aye, aye Captain." Harry performed a sloppy salute and waggled his eyebrows making Peter laugh, which also made him grimace as his side protested at the shaking.

"Ah, wretch...don't make me laugh, it hurts like the devil."

"Then don't put yourself in the way of pistol shots. Want me to send your pretty nurse in to see you again?"

"Her name's Wendy, Harry...and keep your roguish intentions to yourself."

Harry held up his hands and got to his feet. "I know better than to cross swords with you Peter...now get some rest, and don't even think about getting up today."

"We'll see." Peter replied, tipping the bowl up and drinking the dregs.

He waited for Harry to leave, replacing the now empty bowl on the tray, before throwing back the covers off his legs and attempting to get up.  
His face was screwed up in a rictus of pain, his teeth bared as his hand clamped against the bandages as if to push the agony back into his body. He managed to get himself partially upright, his bare feet touching the floor boards, before black spots started to swim in his vision and he passed out, slumping slowly to the floor in an ignominious heap.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Tomas crouched on the broad branch of a tree and stared down at the man standing in the clearing. His black brows drew together in a scowl as he watched the man pat his richly decorated coat and adjust the sword hanging by his side. Apparently satisfied, the grey haired man then cast a brief look about the glade before choosing a direction and setting off at a brisk walk, the ostrich plume in his hat bobbing jauntily, his pace quickly taking him out of sight.

Jumping off the branch, Tomas performed a graceful somersault before landing in a crouch on the soft earth below.

After months of barely seeing a grup, let alone capturing or ransoming one, the woods seemed to be sprouting them all over the place like mushrooms.

Rising to his feet he stared after the intruder, sticking his tongue out and blowing a rude raspberry before turning his back and strutting along the path in the opposite direction.

He'd been cross with Fetter for being late, but had listened as eagerly as the rest when Fetter told of his adventure after following the lady grup into the forest. There hadn't been any pirates in the woods for months and Tomas frequently boasted that it was fear of him that kept the grups on their ships and out of Neverland. The others had nodded and Berry had kissed him and told him he was the best protector and Pan that Neverland had ever seen.

Now in the space of a day they had found the lady grup, had the woods full of pirate grups, then today an older grup had appeared in the glade.

Tossing his dagger into the air and catching it, Tomas decided that maybe it would be a good idea to post lookout's again if the grups were planning on invading his woods.

Satisfied with his decision, Tomas threw his dagger into the air then flew up to catch it, performing a series of acrobatic maneuvers in the air before touching down again and continuing on foot to his tree home.

He wondered what Berry was cooking for their tea.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Wendy leant on the rail and tilted her head towards the sun, her eyes closed as the warm soaked into her skin. It felt wonderful to be on a ship again, her brief sojourn all those years ago had only whetted her appetite for sailing, her opportunities to indulge her desire, since her first trip to Neverland, nonexistent in her world.

Now she was back and standing on the deck of an elegant pirate ship, the sails above her head straining to their fullest to pull the hull faster through the waves. Turning her head she tried to spot the ship following, her eyes barely able to discern the dark smudge on the horizon that marked its position. They were running before the wind and hugging the coastline, a series of tall pinnacles of rock up ahead apparently their destination. A sailor had told her in passing that the columns of wind sculptured sandstone were called The Sisters, a ship needing a steady hand to wend her way through the deep channels between them. The line of pinnacles stretched far out into the sea, varying in height and thickness and state of erosion. She had been told that it would add hours to try and sail around them, so the Captain had decided to take the route through them in an effort to throw off the Jolly Roger.

Watching the strangely shaped rock come closer, Wendy let her thoughts take her back to her conversation with Peter.

After her initial shock of seeing him without the black mask, she had puzzled over why he thought it necessary to hide his identity from her. Time had certainly wrought a wealth of changes to both of their faces and forms, Peter's changes quite the most dramatic as the boy had grown into a most attractive man. As a girl she had been entranced with not only his appearance, dashing as that had been, but with his sheer spirit of bravado and natural charm, her girlish heart quite lost to the boyish buccaneer. Now to meet him as a woman, she felt as if someone had pulled a very large rug from under her feet, her feelings veering from wanting to pummel him senseless for being such an arrogant idiot, to having an overwhelming urge to brush that persistent curl of hair off his forehead before kissing him until her toes curled.

A shouted order pulled her from her musings, the crew swarming up the rigging to reef the sails, reducing their speed by half as the Sister's dominated the skyline, looming over the waves, some of the columns several hundred feet high with seabird wheeling in huge flocks around the tops.

A sailor seeing her look of apprehension sidled over.

"No need to worry miss, not the first time the Nymph has threaded the needle, so to speak."

"Oh...well that's a comfort."

"Of course, one never knows when one of these beauties will decided to collapse, so there's always the possibility of being buried under a ton of rock."

Wendy paled, the sailor quite aware that his audience was not thrilled with his observations. He carried on regardless.

"Saw one collapse once...spectacular it was...only just missed getting flattened we did," he shuddered for effect, flashing Wendy a gap toothed grin before dropping a sly wink and moving off.

"Oh dear." Feeling her heart start to pound, Wendy stared up at the Sisters and felt faint. Against the massive rock shafts, the Nymph seemed to shrink in size, appearing like a toy beside the cliffs of sandstone, the waves relentlessly pounding the base in an effort to topple the giants.

As the ship prepared to enter the channel, Wendy found another sailor at her elbow.

"Could you come below miss."

"Is something the matter?" She asked, her eyes drawn once more to the towering Sisters.

"It's the Captain..." The sailor started to explain but he was talking to the fresh air, Wendy already hurrying across the deck and through the hatchway.

Pattering along the companionway, Wendy burst through the cabin door in time to see the Doctor attempting to heave Peter back on to his bed, the young man still unconscious.

"What happened?" Wendy asked, pulling back the covers to make it easier.

"Grab his feet, if you will...damn idiot tried to get out of bed, I'm guessing, and after I specifically told him not to."

Moving around the end of the bunk, Wendy bent down and hefted Peter's legs while the Doctor clasped him from behind, between them managing to hoist Peter's relaxed body back onto the mattress.

"Good girl...now roll him onto his side and we'll see what damage he's done to himself...rash fool!"

So focused on following the Doctor's instructions it was a considerable shock when Wendy suddenly realised that she was handling a very naked Peter Pan, her eyes traveling down the long planes of his deeply tanned back and shoulders to the paler swell of his bare buttocks, the Doctor positioning Peter on his uninjured side to inspect the bandages.

"Go around the other side, there's a good girl, and hold him steady." Harry told her, giving her a little shove as she appeared frozen to the floorboards. Wendy moved as instructed but that only placed her with a clear view of the very naked front of Peter Pan, the bandages at his side spotted with red. The sight of the blood shocked her into moving again, Wendy dropping to her knees beside the head of the bed to brace Peter's shoulders as the Doctor started to cut away the wrappings to expose the wound.

Keeping her eyes firmly on Peter's face, Wendy smoothed the hair from his forehead and darted glances at the Doctors expression to judge from his reactions how badly Peter had injured himself with his impulsive behavior.

"Dammit he's pulled out one of my stitches!" Harry exclaimed after pulling away the pad protecting the wound, Wendy sucking in a breath when her eyes encountered the bruising around the area, blood seeping from the hole made by the pistol ball.

"I'll tie the blasted fool to the bed if he won't stay put." Harry muttered, using the bandages to mop up the blood before placing his medical bag on the bed and rummaging inside. Wendy returned her gaze to Peter's face, noting its pallor and the beads of sweat beading his skin.

"Is there anything you want me to do?"

"Just do what you're doing...keep the young fool still while I reset this stitch, if he wakes there'll be the devil to pay, so hold him fast and don't be surprised if he screams."

Swallowing hard, Wendy nodded her understanding and turned her back on what the Doctor was doing. She had never thought of herself as squeamish, but then she had never been around a hospital before or seen anyone operated on. She could see the pulse in Peter's neck beating fast and she thought she saw his eyelids flicker.

"I think he's waking up!"

"Damn...a moment longer...keep him as still as you can."

Wendy stared down at Peter's bloodless face and instinctively cupped her hand against his cheek, smoothing the skin and brushing the hair back over his ear with her thumb. She felt the moment he regained consciousness, the muscles in his neck cording as pain ripped through him.

"Please Peter...don't move...the Doctor is having to stitch you up again...oh why did you try and get out of bed?"

She saw his eyes open, the lashes so thick as they swept up. "W-W-en-dy?"

"I'm here... don't move Peter...it will all be over soon, but don't move."

"Aaaah it hurts..." Peter groaned, his lips peeling back from his teeth as he grimaced in pain, Wendy feeling that pain herself as she tried to ease it, stroking his face and laying her cheek against his.

"Take this as a salutary reminder to follow your physicians orders in future!" Harry's acerbic tone belied his gently touch as he refashioned the bandages around Peter's side.

Peter's hand had come up and was clutching at the sleeve of Wendy's blouse, the knuckles turning white each time Harry jolted him, the other hand lay lax, outstretched beyond the mattress. Wendy threaded her fingers through it and squeezed in sympathy as she glanced over her shoulder to see how the Doctor was progressing.

"Not long now Peter...he's almost finished."

Peter was panting slightly, his eyes open but staring off into the distance as he tried to ride out the discomfort. He squeezed her hand to let her know he appreciated her being there and Wendy smiled down at him.

"Right...all done." Harry announced, snapping his bag closed and twitching the covers back over Peter's exposed body. "I'll leave something to help dull the pain...I'm sure your young lady will prove a most acceptable nurse."

Wendy glanced up and blushed when Harry winked at her before easing himself out of the doorway.

Releasing his death grip on her sleeve, Peter rolled gingerly onto his back, wincing with each tiny movement until he was laid out once more.

Wendy was just lifting the covers up to his chest when the Doctor returned and handed her a small vial of liquid.

"A spoonful in a glass of water no more than three hourly...it will make him sleepy and dull the pain."

Wendy smiled her gratitude and understanding, rising to fetch the jug and cup standing ready on the dresser against one wall. While her back was turned Harry bent over Peter and spoke to him.

"Next time I'll leave you to bleed out on the floor, you fool. Stay in your bed until I say you can leave it...understand?"

Peter nodded and turned away, Harry straightening up and watching Wendy measure out the medicine into the cup and fill it with water before carrying it over to the bed.

"I'll expect you to sit on his chest if he so much as puts a toe out of these covers." Harry growled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Wendy blushed and seated herself on the edge of the bunk. "I'll make sure he stays put Doctor."

"I'll leave you now...we're navigating the Sister's and I'm needed on deck." With a final smile he left the cabin, shutting the door behind him.

"Peter?" Wendy's soft query brought Peter around to face her. She slipped a hand behind his head to raise him and brought the cup to his lips. "Drink this."

She held it for him until he drained it all, his lips twisting with a grimace at its bitter taste. Lowering his head back to the pillows, she placed the cup on the floor and smoothed the covers up to his shoulders. Peter watched her through his lashes, his brain already feeling fuzzy with the opiate the Doctor had prescribed. Struggling to move his sluggish tongue, Peter reached out a hand and snagged her skirt, drawing her attention back to the head of the bed.

"What is it Peter? Is it still agony?"

As she bent over him, he reached up and wrapped his hand around her arm, pulling her down further.

"What can I do to help?" Wendy asked, falling neatly into his simple trap.

"If I am to spend the day dosed with Harry's foul brew at least send me on my way with a gift." He grinned up at her, a wicked light in his eyes as she stared down at him quizzically.

"A gift?" Wendy queried, then her face coloured as she remembered what she'd been about to give him that morning before the Doctor interrupted them. "Oh."

Seeing the smirk painting his face, Wendy raised an eyebrow and almost decided to refuse, but as his wish so closely echoed her own desire, she instead placed a hand on the pillow beside his head and bent down towards him. Peter felt breathless, tilting his chin as Wendy lowered her head, his eyes sliding closed as Wendy's lips hovered over his. At the last moment Wendy turned her head and pressed her lips to his prickly cheek, holding them there for a second before lifting her head to see his reaction.

Peter's eyes had opened as soon as he felt her lips brush against his skin, his brows drawing together in a frown until he saw the smile dimpling her mouth and the sparkle in her eyes.

"I think you missed your mark," he whispered, feeling his heart start to pound as Wendy's smile faded and she stared down at him with an intent look in her eyes. A wisp of hair had worked loose from her tidy chignon and he reached up to smooth it behind her ear, his hand lingering on her cheek, stroking the downy softness.

That same hand found its way to the nape of her neck and slowly, inexorably, pulled her down until at last he felt her lips against his own, his eyes slid shut as he relished the feel of her, all else forgotten in the wonder of their first real kiss.

At the start it was merely their lips pressing against the other, then they were exchanging small kisses and nibbles, exploring each other's lips, the world reduced to the sensations coursing through them both.

Peter's hand was still buried in her hair and he used it to angle her head before pressing her closer, his tongue caressing her lips and sweeping across their fullness, causing her to part them, giving him entrance to her mouth.

Wendy felt boneless and feverish, her breasts flattened against Peter's chest, her fingers playing with the curls of hair around his ears as her mouth moved over his. His fingers were strong and warm against her head as the kiss went from lighthearted to passionate, Peter's tongue invading her mouth, darting against her own and tempting her to respond in kind. How long it would have persisted was never to be known as the ship suddenly heeled over and Wendy found herself torn from Peter's arms and thrown to the floor.

Shocked, she scrambled back to her feet and was almost thrown over the bed when the ship heeled over to the other side, loose items on the cabin floor sliding across to the outer wall. Peter was gripping the edge of the bunk in an attempt to avoid being thrown about, his teeth gritted against the jolting. At a loss what to do for the best, Wendy hitched up her skirts and sat herself on the edge of the bed, draping herself quickly over Peter's chest, pinning him to the mattress and keeping his torso as still as possible against the rough tossing of the ship.  
The Nymph was being buffeted by the waves as she negotiated the narrow passage between two of the sandstone towers, the backwash from the crashing waves causing a maelstrom of swirling water that threatened to dash the ship against the unforgiving rocks. At the helm Stubbs had to pit his considerable strength against the pull of the ships wheel trying to rip out of his hands and steer them all into the cliffs.

Down in the cabin Wendy clung to Peter, her face buried in the crook of his neck, and squeezed her eyes tight shut, praying beneath her breath that the ship wouldn't founder, while Peter, one arm around Wendy's shoulders, the other still gripping the edge of the bunk, buried his nose in her hair and thought himself in heaven, thanking irreverently the pirate who'd thoughtfully plugged a pistol shot in his side.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

tbc...


	6. Safe Harbor

13/09/05 

Title: To Have and To Hold

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Six - Safe Harbour

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Hook lowered the specially designed telescope from his eye and cursed volubly. The crewmen working near him moved prudently out of his range as he whirled from the rail and stomped across the deck.

"MISTER GRANT!" Hook bellowed, throwing the scope at the nearest pirate, the man juggling the instrument for a few precious seconds, his face going grey, before managing to clutch the Captain's property to his chest, safe and sound.

"Yes Captain?" Hook's henchman slid down the rope and landed beside him.

"We're losing them!"

"Aye Captain...they're threading the needle and heading for the sand bar."

"I reckon you have the right of it Mister Grant...and this old bucket won't be able to get close...will she?"

"Sorry Sir...not a chance. Even if we stripped her to the ribs she'd still ride too low in the water."

"Damn."

"We know that he was injured...won't they have to hole up somewhere while he recuperates?" Smee's quaver reached Hook above the slap of the waves and the singing of the wind in the rigging.

"Quite right, Mister Smee...and with his precious Wendy beside him, he's even less likely to want to be looking for a fight."

"We could take the fight to him?" Grant suggested, not flinching when he found the gleaming hook on his Captain's right hand scant inches from his throat.

"I think you might be right again Grant. Just bursting with good ideas today, aren't you?"

Grant visibly swallowed, a grey tinge underlying his scarred face, a tick starting under one eye. Hook smiled at the evidence of his henchman's nervousness.

"Calm yourself man...I have no desire to have the crew swab the decks again. Come to my cabin, we'll discuss the best place to land and the likelihood of where they'll berth the Nymph."

Jerking his head at Smee to follow, Hook swept past his men and slammed open the door leading to his cabin. Released from the tension of anticipating bloodshed, the pirate crew set about their duties and prepared the ship to cease its headlong pursuit.

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The Nymph was finally clear of the towering sandstone needles known as The Sisters, her crew raising a ragged clear as they cleared the turbulent water that marked the passage through. Stubbs relinquished the wheel to the helmsman and flexed his fists to loosen the stiffness in his muscles from fighting the rudder. He noticed Harry watching him.

"All ship shape and Bristol fashion Doc."

"Which is more than I can say for our Captain." Harry retorted, leaning his arms on the rail beside the burly Quartermaster.

"What happened?"

"Only tried to run before he could walk and burst a stitch."

Stubbs chortled. "And you're surprised? Don't you know the lad well enough by now."

"I thought I did. Anyway, I stitched him up and left his pretty nurse with him to keep him...er...pinned to his bed."

This time they both laughed.

Stubbs wiped his eyes. "I don't know why the boy ever thought he'd have any problem bringing her round...'tis obvious she's smitten with him."

"If you'd seen them when I walked in, you'd be calling the banns even now and getting yourself fitted with a new suit of clothes for the wedding."

"Then we're home and hosed laddie," Stubbs whacked Harry on the back and almost pitched him overboard.

"There is the small matter of bringing it all together...and she didn't bring the other book, which means either Hook already has it, which I think most likely...or it's been left behind."

"And there's the original medallion to find yet." Stubbs added gloomily.

"Quite." Harry stared out at the distant shoreline, the tree shrouded cliffs rising steeply towards the mountain range and the high volcanic cone beyond.

Stubbs heaved a huge sigh and pushed away from the railing. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder and started across the deck.

"At least we've lost our tail...I reckon ol'Hook will be taking the long way around after the last time."

Harry grinned at the first mate and walked off in the opposite direction, heading for the crew quarters and his other patients.

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"We seem to be plain sailing once more...Peter?"

Wendy lifted her head and stared down at him, her mouth curling into a soft smile as she gazed into the sleep relaxed features of her patient. The medicine had worked its magic and she sighed, glad that he was out of pain for a short time. Easing herself off his chest, she found she had to disentangle his fingers from her hair, needing the removal of all the pins to allow it to tumble around her shoulders before she could pull him free. With him comfortably unaware, she felt free to look her fill of him with no-one to witness her brazen appraisal.

With a light finger she traced over his winged brows, following their shape before softly moving down his face, his short prickly whiskers tickling her finger tip.

"You need a shave." She whispered, following the line of his jaw around to his mouth, her fingertip smoothing the outline of his lips which had so recently been busy on hers, their touch sending shivers of delight down her spine and along her nerves. She trailed her finger down his neck to the pulse that beat at the base, his collar bone leading her fingers to his shoulders and back, pausing briefly to trace an old scar high up on his chest before moving on. His skin felt soft and warm against her hand and she briefly lay her cheek against his chest, the steady beat of his heart plus the rise and fall of his ribs evidence enough that he lived and breathed and existed beyond her many dreams of him in the years past.

It was true that she had tried to forget him when he didn't return for her, but she'd never quite managed to evict him completely from her thoughts, and especially not from her dreams. Although she had to admit that he'd never looked quite this handsome or quite so accessible in any of her recent dreams.

Blushing at her temerity she snatched her hand back and pulled the covers up high, her cheeks burning as she stared at the outline of his body under the covers. She thought she'd seen as much as she wanted of his body the previous day when he'd first been injured, but she'd been wrong. Having seen him as naked as anyone can be, she was almost tempted to pull the covers back and look again.

"Do unto others as you'd have them do unto you." She quoted primly to banish her wicked thoughts, averting her eyes and moving around the cabin collecting all the items displaced by the erratic movements of the ship. But no amount of bustling and tidying up could quite banish the images of firm golden flesh and long, muscled limbs. Unable to cool her burning face, Wendy sought a distraction and found it in a collection of books securely held in a corner shelf. Finding a volume of the selective works of Shakespeare, she pulled the stool to the end of the bed and sat herself down, immersing herself in the familiar characters and poetry, successfully distracting herself from thoughts of a carnal nature.

Harry came to check on Peter an hour later and brought a tray of food for Wendy. He explained that they were currently negotiating a channel through a sand bar that guarded a lagoon that in turn allowed access to a deep canal named Cannibal Creek. There they would find a safe harbour to allow the ship to be restocked and for Peter to recover in peace.

"There aren't really any cannibals on Neverland...are there?"

Harry grinned at Wendy and shrugged. "As far as I'm aware the cannibals were banished many years ago, long before I came here, and probably long before you arrived for the first time."

"Oh...well that's a comfort. I don't suppose you have the time to talk for a moment do you?"

"As it so happens I can spare you a moment or two." Harry grinned and leant against the cabin wall.

"Good. When I was last in Neverland, six years ago...Peter and I were just children, myself not quite thirteen. I knew about the Indians, and the pirates with Captain Hook and the Jolly Roger. I was shown the Mermaids and the Fairies, so I know something of Neverland's secrets, but can you tell me where you, the crew and this ship came from?"

"Ah..." Harry rubbed his chin and shuffled his feet.

"I can understand why there might be a new band of Lost Boys, after all I appropriated the last batch and took them home with me. But I distinctly remember there only being one pirate ship, the Jolly Roger."

"Yes...well...ah." Harry said unhelpfully.

"I mean, did you just spring into being? Were you all marooned here? And why is Peter the Captain? I'm sure he's a very good Captain...but he's a little young, and I always thought Captains were supposed to be more...er...mature. Certainly not the youngest in the crew."

"You're right, of course...but...er..." Harry shut his mouth with a snap.

Wendy sat on the stool and gazed intently at the Doctor in expectation of answers.

"Well, see here...it's a bit of a mystery to us as much as it is to you."

Wendy pursed her lips and opened her eyes wide, willing him to continue.

Harry felt sweat trickling down his back. "You see...we're not exactly who we appear to be...in a manner of speaking."

"I'm sorry but I don't see...if you're not who you appear to be...who are you supposed to be..when you're not being who you appear to be?" She paused for a second to consider what she'd just said. "Hmmm...I think that's the right way to put it."

"Yes...um...that's a very good question. The problem is...I can't answer it for you."

"Oh...then who can?"

Harry crossed and uncrossed his arms, his eyes roaming over the room as if looking for inspiration. "Well not our patient...at least I don't think he knows." His forehead creased in worry.

Wendy drew herself up off the stool and stamped her foot in exasperation, wishing she was wearing her sensible half boots to make the gesture more meaningful and noisy.

"For heaven's sake...I'm starting to think that I must be hallucinating all this," She flung her arms wide, narrowly missing the lamp hanging from the ceiling beam. "So no one can tell me anything...not you, because you seem totally incapable, and not Peter because he doesn't know anything to start with."

Harry tried to unravel her logic and when he did he flashed her a broad grin. "In a nutshell."

Clenching her fists, Wendy stifled an angry squeal. "I am sorely tempted to jump ship and find Captain Hook, maybe I could wring the answers from him!"

Harry's face froze in horror, taking Wendy at her word. "You can't do that...it would be an unmitigating disaster...for all of us!"

"And that's another thing!" Wendy started on another tack. "How can Hook be alive after being swallowed by a crocodile?"

By now Harry had had enough. "Nope...sorry, not my province at all. I'll leave that story to Peter. Let me know when he wakes up and I'll check the bandages. Enjoy your lunch."

Not waiting a second more, the Doctor all but ran out of the cabin and along the passageway, the outer hatch banging behind him before Wendy could reach the end of the bed or call out to detain him.

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Captain Aramis was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Fairies were quite the most infuriating creatures imaginable.

He shifted slightly on the moss covered rock and fixed a patient smile back on his face.

"As I tried to explain...there was no time. Hook already knows all there is to know and is bound to be hunting them even now."

An angry cascade of bells greeted his remark and he felt an overwhelming urge to roll his eyes.

"I am well aware that I was only supposed to use the medallion and the dust in the case of an extreme situation...I considered this just such a case. I couldn't find out what had happened to the girl until I came here myself. For all I knew she had been kidnapped by the blackguard and carried off to who knows where! Then what would you all do...hmmm?"

A slightly more subdued chorus of chimes greeted his rhetorical question.

"Yes...quite. I'm aware there were other candidates for the post, the dratted boy hasn't exactly been shy around the females, but she was his first, and hence the best," A loud chime interrupted him. "Yes I know that...but the girl has spirit and the boy wanted her, what was I supposed to do?"

A trill of bells answered him and he shrugged.

"Well I did my best...you forget, it's been a very long time since my last visit here. I was surprised that everything still fitted!"

A quiet chime made him smile.

"Now you're just flattering me. But enough m'dear, what are we to do?"

He listened as his fairy companion filled the air with a torrent of tinkling bells, the Captain nodding his head occasionally until the report ended.

"Well...it seems pretty clear to me. We have to get the book back from Hook before he can get his hands on the other one and the girl."

A quick trill made him raise his hand to stop it.

"Yes I know that nothing can be done until they are all combined, my medallion as well, but that won't stop him making free with his prisoner if he manages to wrest her from the boy. We have to make sure it doesn't happen."

They sat in silence for a moment, the sounds of the forest calmly soothing after the noise and bustle of London.

"Well...I must be off. I don't suppose you know where the Nymph is?"

The Fairy chimed several times.

"Ah...Cannibal Creek, of course. It's a bit of a trek...I don't suppose...?" He looked hopefully at the fairy but received an emphatic shake of the tiny head. "No, I thought not. After that last attempt I suppose it is better if I use my legs, it was just a thought."

Rising up, Aramis dusted off his trousers and shook out his coat tails before picking up his hat and setting it once more on his gray head.

Clapping his hands together and giving them a rub, he grinned broadly at his fairy companion.

"The games afoot Watson! Time for the off!"

Clapping one hand on the hilt of his sword, he matched action to words and marched out of the glade and along the path that appeared between the trees. A tinkling laugh followed him as he left the fairy forest and set out to find his old ship, his lips pursing to whistle jauntily as he walked in the manner of a man half his age.

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The Nymph negotiated the narrow canal known as Cannibal Creek with the ease of an old friend. The river Nefer, named by the Indians, had a wide delta that split into several interconnected channels, each deep enough for a ship to navigate, some of the wider waterways having floating islands of reeds and bull rushes, the large seed heads rattling together like sabres when the wind blew. All along the bank the thick rushes grew as tall as a man providing a ready haven for the birds that nested in them. Flocks of ducks and geese hooted and honked as the ship passed, the water churned into a froth when a large family of geese decided to precede the ship, their feet paddling the surface as they spread their wings wide and raced to become airborne before the bow wave of the ship reached them. Wendy leant on her arms and smiled at the birds as she stared down at the green water sliding past the hull. Peter was still asleep so she'd slipped out of the cabin and come on deck to get some fresh air and to see what was happening. The ship was only making slow progress, all the sails furled except a handful, the breeze very gently propelling the craft up river, barely disturbing the surface of the water with her passage.

Wendy stared at the shore and the trees that clothed the bank, their variety and lushness a direct contrast with the grey and sooty view of London from her bedroom window. Neverland was all sunshine and greenery, the colours soft on the eyes and a balm to the spirit, even the water seemed to sooth her, the limpid green filled with the waving fronds of weed in which fish and amphibians darted and swam.

She found herself wondering anew how Neverland could exist at all, an enigma that would never be decoded, a paradox that might never be explained, a mystery that could never be solved. As she pondered she watched a troop of monkey making a meal in a fruit laden tree, their raucous cries causing birds to fly up from the tree tops, their bright colours, as they wheeled overhead, like a feathered rainbow.

Sighing, Wendy pushed herself away from the rail and padded across the deck casting a glance at the helm and receiving a merry wave from the first mate, Stubbs's face split with a wide grin as she lifted her hand to wave back. Still smiling, she entered the cabin and found Peter wide awake and staring towards the cabin window, a look of profound wistfulness painting his features. As she entered he turned to face her, a smile lighting his eyes and dispelling the melancholy as she sat herself on the side of the bed.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like someone set about me with a very large stick." Peter told her, his smile lopsided as he shifted over to make more room.

"Oh dear...do you want some more medicine?"

Peter laughed softly. "Do you remember?"

"Remember what?"

"Your punishment for the Lost Boys when they shot you down?"

Wendy smiled at the memory of the flower cups and rain water.

"That was a silly pretend, as if anyone really thought the water was medicine."

"I did."

"And it nearly cost you your life...if Tinkerbell.." Wendy stopped, a lump forming in her throat as she remembered how close Peter had come to dying from Hook's poison.

"But I didn't...and Tinkerbell came back. I never did thank you for what you and the boys did for her. What happened on the ship, you never really said?"

"Well it wasn't much, really."

"Tell me?"

"I'm not sure I remember all that well..." Wendy prevaricated.

"Then make something up...aren't nurses supposed to entertain their patients?"

Wendy sent him an arch look but chose to ignore his teasing.

"Let's see...we'd been captured by Hook just outside the tree, he was waiting for us and I was the last out. He gagged us all so we couldn't call out and warn you. When they got us back to the ship I was tied to the main mast and the boys were seated on the deck in a huddle. Hook was taunting us and the pirates were all jeering and cheering and making a frightful noise. Then suddenly the sky went dark and clouds started to gather, all black and brooding. I felt something cold touch my face and looked up, it was snowing. Hook went and looked over the side of the ship at the sea which was heaving and grey and I remember lightning flashing once or twice, it was very scary. Hook cried out that you must be dead and told all the pirates to take their hats off in memory of a fallen enemy. I didn't want to believe him, but the snow started to fall more heavily and I-I-I..."

"What? What did you do?"

"I cried."

"Then what happened?"

"Hook was grinning in triumph and the pirates were dancing about and I felt numb, but all at once I heard your voice in my head. You were saying - I do believe in fairies - over and over, and before I knew it, I was saying it too. The boys quickly picked up the chant and we were all saying it, even the pirates, despite threatening us to shut up, they started saying it as well. Somehow it was making them go mad, the pirates bumping in to each other and falling over, it was crazy and then the clouds started to disappear and the sun came out, melting the snow and making the sea calm down until everything was back to the way it had been and Hook was a mad as a bull, shouting and screaming that you were alive. I was so happy at that moment."

"You were?"

"I knew you were alive, that Hook hadn't won."

"What happened then?"

"Hook was very cross and wanted me to tell him how it had happened, but I didn't really know and anything I said just made him angrier. He asked me about my stories and when he found out they all ended with a kiss, he had a strange look on his face. I didn't like that look.

"Why?"

"He reminded me of a wolf, ready to eat me up if I so much as blinked."

"Then what did he do?"

"He said a lot of things I didn't really understand, about love stories and...other things, then he cut the ropes and threatened to make me walk the plank. He blindfolded me and pushed me onto the plank and tried to make me fall off but I managed to keep my footing, for a little while. I was so scared, I could hear Michael and John yelling for them to stop but the pirates only laughed and Hook thumped again on the plank and I lost my balance and fell.

"And I caught you." Peter finished for her.

"And you caught me..." Wendy felt tears prick at her eyelids. "I sometimes would dream of that moment...except they were nightmares and you didn't catch me, instead I fell into the water and drowned and the mermaids carried me away to bury at sea."

"But I did catch you..."

"Peter?"

"Yes."

"What did Hook say to you to bring you down?"

"What do you mean?"

"What did he say to rob you of your happy thoughts...one minute you were fighting up in the rigging, then you fell."

Peter looked away, his heart thumping painfully as he recalled the fateful moment when Hook's words pierced his bubble of joy and sent him plummeting to the deck.

"He said you were going to leave me." He mumbled, Wendy having to lean forward to hear them.

"He said what?"

"He said that you didn't really love me and were going to leave me for someone called a husband!"

"And you believed him?"

"He said you'd close the window, that you couldn't love me because I was...incomplete."

"Oh Peter..."

"You thought I was deficient and Hook said I was a tragedy...why did you give me your hidden kiss?"

Peter's direct question took Wendy aback, the memory of their more recent embrace making her blush hotly.

"You were never deficient...I was just angry, and when I saw you on the deck...you looked so...accepting of your fate. I couldn't bear it, I had to let you know that you were loved, that you weren't alone."

"You pitied me." Peter said flatly.

"NO!...No...I thought I had nothing to offer you, nothing that would put everything right again, and I thought Hook was going to kill us all. I thought that if I gave you my hidden kiss that at least we would have shared something that Hook could never understand, never steal from us, even if he slit our throats the next second."

"Did you love me Wendy?"

"I suppose I did."

"You suppose?" Peter's indignant shout caused Wendy to jump.

"We were children Peter...it was just an infatuation..."

"Then it was all a lie...you didn't love me then...and you don't love me now." His voice tailed off into a whisper, the sparkle leaving his eyes as he turned his head to stare once more at the wall.

"Peter...it's not that simple. I haven't seen you in years, you can't expect me to just fall into your arms." Wendy stopped abruptly as she remembered that she'd done pretty much exactly that, her behavior that morning contradictory to what she was saying now. Peter must have realised the same thing because he gave her a hard look before turning away again.

"We've grown up...lead vastly different lives, one could hardly expect complete strangers to fall madly in love the moment they meet, it's not sensible...logical."

"Why did you kiss me before if you don't love me?"

"You asked me to...a-a-a comfort kiss to send you to sleep." Wendy muttered, her cheeks so hot she thought they must have flames dancing on them.

"I see." Said Peter, patently not seeing anything.

The silence stretched until Wendy felt as if she might shatter if she moved, words filling her mouth but held back by uncertainty and mistrust of her own feelings. Peter lay with his eyes closed, feigning sleep, but the nerve flexing along his jaw belied his relaxed exterior, his hand, under the covers, curled into a tight, white-knuckled fist. Disappointment warred with a nagging jealousy, both feelings that he had little experience with, an ache settling in his stomach as he considered the possibility that he would have to let her go back to the world she'd been wrenched from. The book must have been wrong.

"I-I-I'll see about getting something for you to eat." Wendy finally spoke, her head turned away as she smoothed her skirts. Not waiting for a reply she hurried from the cabin, not seeing the look of confused longing cross Peter's face before she disappeared from sight.

Stubbs stood back to let Wendy pass, his eyebrows climbing to his sparse hairline when he noted the tears glittering in her eyes before she entered the galley. Shaking his head he continued on to the Captain's Cabin, surprising a similar expression of misery on Peter's face before it was wiped with the first mates entrance through the door.

"How goes it Stubbs?"

"We're approaching the landing and all's well, which is more than I can say for here. I just saw your young lady..."

"She's not my young lady...never was, never will be."

"...she was crying. Now what have you done to upset her?"

"Upset her! What about upset me?"

Stubbs pulled over the stool and sat gingerly down, not at all sure it would support his bulk. "Harry said you were cooing like lovebirds when he last saw you...what happened?"

"Nothing." Peter replied, his bottom lip starting to stick out mutinously. Stubbs saw the lip and had to refrain from laughing out loud. For all his bravado and undoubted courage, Peter was still only a young man, untried in matters of the heart.

"Well nothing doesn't cause a pretty thing to cry and you to sulk."

Peter mumbled something into his chin and looked away.

"Eh? You'll have to mumble louder if you want these ears to hear you."

"I said...she doesn't love me."

"So? Turn on the charm, woo her, flatter her...all that stuff women want."

"She felt sorry for me, that's all...pity!"

"Well? Use that to your advantage...play on her sympathy."

"No!"

Stubbs sighed. "The Book clearly indicated..."

"Damn The Book...damn you...she doesn't want to be here...be with me."

"Did she say that?"

Peter glared at his first mate then looked away. "Not exactly."

"There you are then." Stubbs slapped his leg as if the matter was settled. "Play the part of the wounded hero, after all you are wounded and you were her hero, and she'll fall all over you...women like to feel needed, to hand out tea and sympathy."

"And what would you know about what women want?" Peter's mouth twisted with sarcasm as his first mate squirmed on the stool.

"Enough to know that she's the one...there'll be none better, or serve the purpose so well. She's got spirit and pluck and is pretty as a picture. What more could Neverland want?"

"Maybe you should consult the Oracle...it seems to know everything else."

"Mayhaps I will." Getting to his feet, Stubbs prepared to leave but Peter held up a hand to forestall him.

"Stubbs...before you go and before Wendy gets back...I need to take care of something."

Stubbs stared at him blankly for a moment before taking his meaning.

"Ah yes...and we don't want you falling down again, do we." Taking a step to the door, Stubbs shut it before returning to the bed and pulling the covers off the patient. While Peter braced himself against the mattress, Stubbs gently eased his legs off the bed so his feet reached the floor. Next he hooked an arm around Peter's back, careful to avoid putting pressure on his side, before lifting him upright. Stubbs easily supported Peter's weight, Peter's hand pressed against his side as they shuffled over to the wash stand so that he could relieve himself in the chamber pot. Stubbs politely inspected the ceiling while Peter passed water, supporting the lad until he'd finished his business. While he was there Peter also took advantage of the basin of water left for washing and splashed his face and hands, splashing Stubbs with droplets in the process. When finished he nudged his first mate who stopped his perusal of the far wall and turned to help Peter back to the bed. They were almost there, both of them facing the door in preparation of lowering Peter back onto the mattress when the door opened and Wendy walked in, a tray in her hands.

Her expression of fierce concentration changed to one of almost comical horror, her eyes unable to stop their wandering all over Peter's completely exposed body, apart from the bandage about his middle, her mouth dropping open in embarrassed shock to have walked in on him.

Stubbs suppressed a groan and sneaked a look at Peter's expression. The young man seemed to be equally embarrassed, although whether from his state of undress or because Wendy appeared so shocked, it was hard to tell. They stood frozen like some strange tableau for several seconds before a faint rattle from the crockery on the tray caused by Wendy's trembling hands broke the spell.

As Wendy made to turn her back, Peter tugged on Stubbs to get himself back into bed and decently covered once more.

"I'm s-s-so sorry...I should have kn-ocked. I never thought...oh dear."

Wendy's stammered apology went ignored as Stubbs helped get Peter settled and the blankets pulled over him. Wendy remained with her back turned, biting her lip in mortification as she tried to forget the image that had greeted her entrance.

Peter was scowling horribly, his nerves rubbed raw and his side aching from the exercise. Stubbs gave the covers one last twitch, receiving a bared teeth grimace for his pains from his Captain, before standing to the side to allow Wendy to come inside.

"All neat and sweet again miss...I'll...er...leave you to it then?"

"That'll be all Mister Stubbs," Peter said gruffly at the same time that Wendy said. "Thank you Mister Stubbs."

She waited for the burly man to leave before turning her burning face towards the bed, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the food as she fussed over the dishes and getting the tray set on Peter's knees for him to serve himself.

"At this rate I shouldn't bother putting clothes on at all, you've seen me naked so many time." Peter remarked, one eyebrow raised mockingly.

"I didn't mean to walk in on you...and the previous time I was helping the Doctor."

"You still looked!"

"Well really...I didn't mean to." Wendy glared at him, anger burning the embarrassment away. "And anyway...it's not as if you have anything to be ashamed of...oh!" Wendy's hand flew to her mouth in shock at her own words, Peter's face registering an expression somewhere between surprise and smug satisfaction that she'd liked what she'd seen. Wendy decided to try and deflate his pretensions.

"I do have brother's you know...it's not as if I've never seen a-a-a naked...er...male...person before." Wendy tried for nonchalance but her voice ended on a squeak which rather spoilt the desired effect.

Peter was enjoying himself, laying back on the pillows, his injury forgotten as he lifted his arms and hooked them behind his head, a grin curling his lips as the blankets slipped down to his waist.

"And do they leave anything to be desired?"

"It's hardly a fair comparison...they don't get to run around in the sun semi-clothed or have a chance to build up the kind of muscles from sword fighting...and other things, so its hardly likely that they would have a physique like yours."

Feeling a heady rush of pure male ego, Peter deliberately flexed the muscles of his arms and tightened those on his stomach, Wendy's eyes helplessly drawn to his torso as the golden skin flexed over the musculature beneath.

"It would be worth going around without clothes just to feel your eyes on me." Peter teased, his eyes glowing with a wicked light as Wendy's grew rounder at his audacity.

"You cheeky wretch! ...Of all the arrogant, conceited dolts!"

Tormented with the picture that appeared in her mind of Peter strutting about the deck in full health and as naked as a babe, Wendy decided enough was enough and grabbed up the glass beside the bed. Whirling around she dunked it in the basin of washing water and turned, hurling the contents over Peter, the water hitting him square in the chest.

"You can feed yourself...and don't expect me to be back anytime soon Peter Pan...the next time I see you I expect you to be fully clothed from neck to ankle with as little flesh showing as possible."

Brushing her hands together, she turned and flounced out of the room, leaving Peter dabbing at the water trickling down his chest, his lunch swimming in small puddles on the tray. As he stared at his ruined meal he started to laugh, the chuckle turning into a full peal until his side reminded him of why he was in a bed with a sharp pang and cut his merriment short. Still chuckling to himself he lay back on the damp linen of his pillows and lapsed into a happy daydream involving himself, Wendy and a great deal of water.

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TBC...


	7. RiddleMeRe

15/09/05 

Title: To Have & To Hold

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Seven - Riddle-me-re

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They were approaching a settlement, from what Wendy could see. Several Indian natives in canoes paddled past the Nymph as she glided towards a sturdy looking wharf. Upon the shore were several huts made of bamboo and palm leaves with barrels and boxes heaped up around the outside.

Native women could be seen carrying baskets of fruit and other perishables along a path leading to the landing, the produce left stacked neatly beside one of the huts. As the Nymph pulled in to anchor in the deep channel, Wendy could see down the path the women walked and noted a forest of tepee's clustered in the distance, the bleached hides gleaming in the sunlight angling through the trees. Leaning on the rail she watched as berry brown children leapt off the jetty into the slow moving water, shrieking with delight before sending up spray of droplets to shower over others fishing off the edge. Further along the bank, downstream of the landing, more women knelt on a rounded, rocky outcrop, piles of laundry beside them. The slap of the clothes being pounded clean on the rocks combined with the shrieks of the children and the singing of the women filled the air, Wendy smiling at the domestic, and very peaceful scene.

The creak of the jolly boat being lowered drew her attention and she watched as a net was lowered over the side filled with cargo, the boxes wrapped in water proof oilskins to avoid spoiling the contents. She watched them unload three nets full before the men started to pull for the jetty, the small boat heavily laden in the water. On the shore several braves were rolling out large barrels, the lids sealed, towards the end of the pier ready to load them into the boat pulling alongside. Above and behind her the ship bustled with activity as the sailors reefed the sails and checked the ratlines for tangling before shimmying down the ropes to reach the deck and help with the cargo still to be sent ashore.

It was all a sight not uncommon on the London docks, but here in Neverland it was unusual because of the people involved, the dark skinned Indian's dressed in their fine buckskins and beautiful bead work, the sea roughened sailors attired as buccaneers with weapons worn openly and clothes well tattered from their rough life at sea.

The day was drawing to a close, the golden light of the setting sun giving the scene a strange glow, the people moving as if through gold dust, to Wendy's eyes seeming to move in slow motion, the sounds becoming muted and blurred like her eyesight. As she stared at the shore, she felt something cold touch her cheek. Looking up she saw a snow flake slowly spiral down out of the clear sky, another quickly following until the air was full of the cold offerings. Dragging her eyes from the sky she stared once more at the shore, surprised to find it empty of people, the barrels and boxes still in place, but of the Indian's there was no sign, not even footprints in the white snow quickly covering the ground. Wendy blinked and turned her head to look at the ship around her, finding the deck as empty as the river bank, the ship as silent as a graveyard. She started to walk across the deck towards the cabin door and found herself slipping on the slush coating the planks, her toes shrinking from the freezing snow that seemed to cover everything, piling up on the surfaces and falling from the sky until she felt blinded. The whiteness lay undisturbed by any footfall or evidence of anyone else on the ship apart from herself and Wendy started to panic. Blinded by the snow and nearly falling on the slippery decking, she pulled open the cabin door and entered the passageway leading to the Captain's cabin. It was dark and cold and she groped her way to the cabin door, pushing on the wood and watching as it swung wide. Peter's room was as dark as the passageway, the lamp not lit. Unable to speak she stepped into the cabin and stared at the bed, the covers tattered and dusty and pulled about, half hanging off the side. It looked as if someone was in the bed, the blankets mounded up over a shape, so Wendy took a step forward and pulled at the covers, the grimy blanket tearing as she tugged it. Impatiently she leant forward and grabbed a handful of the covers and yanked them off the bed, dropping them on the floor as her hands flew to her mouth to stifle a scream of horror. Laying on the bed was a man's body, the flesh all but gone from the bones gleaming whitely in the gloom, the eye-sockets mere black holes, the teeth leering at her, one arm outstretched as if pleading.

Wendy screamed and turned to run out of the room.

She instantly came up against a broad chest, the owner letting out a grunt of surprise as she attempted to thrust him out of the way so she could run.

"Hey...slow down..whatever is the matter?"

Stubbs's gruff voice penetrated her shock and brought her up short, her eyes darting around the deck, noting the sun still shining through the rigging and the sound of laughter coming from the shore.

"W-w-wh-e-re's the snow?"

Stubbs stared at her, noting her pale face and wide, fearful eyes.

"You're shaking lass. Here sit down, you look ready to pass out." He curled his hand around her wrist and tugged her towards a small barrel. Wendy stumbled and would have fallen but his hands caught her shoulders as he steered her over and forced her to sit.

"You'd better put your head between your knees...I'll go get Harry."

Still reeling from her vision, she did just that, not lifting her head until the Doctor arrived. Harry knelt down and held his hand to her forehead, his fingers wrapping around her wrist as he felt her pulse.

"Stubbs said you looked about to faint...can you tell me what's wrong?"

Wendy lifted her head and looked at Harry's concerned face, Stubbs hovering behind him as she stared around her, confusion plain in her expression.

Seeing no evidence of the slush or snow, and everyone carrying on about their business as they should, Wendy let go a shuddering sigh and covered her eyes with her hands as Harry and Stubbs exchanged a glance over her head.

"There was snow...and...and everyone was gone...it was so cold...and Peter..." She stopped, lifting her head staring up at the men, her eyes going wide with remembered horror. "I have to see Peter..." She leapt to her feet and pushed past the men, running across the sun warmed wood of the main deck to the open door leading below. Panting she ran down the passageway and burst through the cabin door, her eyes drawn instantly to the bed. Sunlight was shining through the windows and bars of light spread across the covers, highlighting the body within. Almost sobbing, Wendy staggered forward and stared down at Peter's profile against the pillows, his hair a riot of burnished curls, several tempting her to reach out and brush them back from his forehead. She could see the rise and fall of his chest as he slept, his arms laying on top of the covers, his hands limp and relaxed against his sides.

Pressing the back of her hand against her mouth, Wendy backed slowly out of the room, anxious not to wake the sleeper. Closing the door again, this time softly, she turned and found herself regarded keenly by the Doctor and the first mate.

"Would you care to tell us what that was all about?" Harry asked, one eyebrow raised as Wendy lowered her hand.

"I must have been...hallucinating, or something." Wendy turned her head and stared sightlessly at the wall beside her.

"You were frightened half to death...what did you see in your...hallucination?"

"I told you...it was snowing. One minute everything was as it should be, the sun was shining, everyone was there...then it was snowing and everyone was gone, the ship empty, the river bank...all gone."

She drew in a shaky breath, trying to dispell the shock of her waking nightmare. Harry drew her forward and propelled her down the passageway to her room and ushered her inside.

"Sit yourself down for a moment and take a breath. I'll rustle up something to calm you, then you can tell me what this is all about."

Wendy felt too drained to protest and gratefully sat down on the edge of her bunk. Harry and Stubbs exchanged a meaningful glance before the big man hurried away to the galley. Harry re-entered Wendy's cabin and perched on the edge of the bunk beside her.

"Do you remember hitting your head or anything?" Harry asked, receiving a glare from his patient for his pains.

"I'm not injured or ill, I was just watching them unload the ship when it started to snow, I looked up, surprised as you'd expect, then when I looked back down everyone was gone, the crew, the Indian's...everyone."

"I see...and Peter?"

Wendy hung her head and passed a shaking hand over her eyes. "I ran to his cabin but it was as if no-one had been there for years. When I pulled back the covers on the bed..." Wendy paused, drawing in a shuddering breath as the image of the body leapt into her mind with horrifying clarity. "There was a corpse in the bed, a man."

"Was it Peter?"

Wendy shook her head and lowered her hand. "I don't know."

Harry reached over and patted her hand in an avuncular fashion, the noise of Stubbs return easing some of the tension in Wendy's shoulders as Harry rose to his feet to give the first mate room.

Accepting the mug of steaming tea, Wendy sipped gratefully, glad to have something to do with her hands. Harry and Stubbs stood in the doorway and waited for her to regain her composure.

"It's not the first time that's happened." She informed them, sipping her tea again. Both men exchanged another worried glances before turning back to face her.

"Seeing a dead body?"

"Finding myself alone and it snowing."

"When?"

"I was at home...in my bedroom. The book..." Wendy suddenly sat up straight, her eyes bright. "It must have something to do with the book, it was there, in my first hallucination...a bright light shining out of it." She suddenly started to scrabble at her neckline. "My pendant..my acorn pendant...oh no, I must have lost it somewhere."

"An acorn?" Queried Stubbs, one bushy eyebrow raised skeptically.

"On a gold chain, Peter's kiss...oh I can't explain. The book found it and I had it in my hand when I went to sleep...before I woke up here. I must have dropped it in the forest."

"Peter might know something about that...he was given something by that Lost Boy when we found you."

Wendy stared up at the first mate. "Did you find it when you...er...undressed him?"

"I didn't look." Stubbs confessed sheepishly.

"It'll be in his coat if it's anywhere," Harry suggested.

Stubbs nodded and left the small cabin again. A few moments later he returned, his fist closed over something which he held out and dropped into Wendy's outstretched palm.

It was the acorn pendant, the green nut looking as fresh and new as if picked only that moment, the chain shining brightly against her white skin.

Putting down her mug of tea, Wendy fiddled with the clasp before threading the chain around her neck and securing it at her nape. It nestled comfortably against her plain blouse in the hollow just above the jut of her breasts.

"Well that explains a bit." Mumbled Harry, crossing his arms and glancing at the first mate who winked back at him and grinned. Wendy was too absorbed in staring down at the acorn to wonder at the comment.

"I think it might be time you saw something."

Wendy looked up at the Doctor expectantly.

"If you feel up to it...come with me." Harry stepped out of the cabin and Wendy followed, glancing at Stubbs who kept a straight face, only breaking out into a grin when her back was turned.

Harry led them along the passageway and down a set of steep ladders, into the bowels of the ship. He lit a lantern and waited for Wendy and Stubbs to join him before leading them down a narrow corridor to a closed door. Fishing in his pocket he produced an ornate key and unlocked the door, pushing it wide and ushering Wendy inside. The room was empty except for a small table on which sat a familiar article.

"The Book!" Wendy exclaimed, stepping forward and peering down at the cover, "But the cover looks like new...the medallion looks newly minted."

"This is The Oracle." Harry pronounced, hanging the lantern on a hook so that it shed light directly on the table. "This is what chose you, what brought you back to Neverland. It created us, created this," he swept his arm in an arc.

"A book?" Wendy stared at both men with disbelieving eyes.

"The Oracle...you found it's mate hidden in your world...the two are connected."

Wendy stared down at the seemingly inoffensive volume, so like the one she'd read. "Can I look inside it?"

Harry and Stubbs exchanged a look before Harry spoke again. "Usually it tells us when it has something to say, but I don't suppose it would hurt for you to look."

Wendy rested one hand on the table and leant forward, her finger tracing the outline of the medallion before slowly opening the book to the first page. Flipping a few more pages she turned a surprised face to the two men. "It's blank...there's nothing written on the pages."

Harry sighed. "Maybe it doesn't have anything to tell you."

Wendy frowned and picked up the book, not seeing the looks of alarm shooting between the two men. She opened it wide and flipped through the pages from front to back and then snapped it shut. Harry winced and Stubbs cowered as if expecting divine retribution for the cavalier treatment of the book.

Holding the spine in the palm of her hand, Wendy once more opened the book to the first page and this time there was something written as well as a diagram below the opening paragraph.

"To find the treasure, you must first bring two halves together and make a whole. When two become one then a third will arrive who will render the whole at peace once more." Wendy read, her brow creasing as she tried to decipher the words. "It's a riddle, I think."

"What do you think it means?" Harry asked, reading the paragraph over her shoulder.

"I have no idea...unless it means that we have to bring the two books together for something...and what is the 'third' it refer's to...is there another book?" Wendy asked.

"I was only aware of the two...one in the mortal realm, the other in the Never realm, which is the one you hold in your hand."

Wendy stared down at the printing and looked down the page at the drawing. It depicted an insignia of sorts, a circle containing a heart which itself held a drawing of something oval beside something that looked a little like a bucket. Wendy peered at the drawings attempting to fathom from amongst the curlicue's and adornments what the two could be.

"This could be the medallion...see this little nick out of the side of the circle, it's the same as on the cover of the book, and here, the faint writing around the rim looks the same as the one on the cover."

They all peered at the picture and agreed it was most likely what it was.

"I can't make out what these small objects are, do you know?"

Stubbs and the Doctor exchanged looks and shuffled their feet.

"There's a larger version of that on the flag flying from the main mast, if you care to look." Harry told her.

"A flag?"

"We always wondered why it depicted an acorn...now we know." Stubbs whispered in an aside to the Doctor.

"Am I to understand that this diagram is on the flag you fly?" Wendy asked, not hearing the interchange.

"Yup." Stubbs answered her. "A simpler version, mind you."

"So if this is the medallion." Wendy traced the circular outline. "What is the heart supposed to mean?"

"Love?" Harry suggested with false innocence.

"And the small objects within?" Wendy asked, almost knowing the answer before she heard it.

"Um...we think...it could be...maybe..." Harry prevaricated, receiving a raised eyebrow from Wendy.

"You think it refer's to Peter and myself?"

"It's an acorn and a thimble." Stubbs blurted out. "On the flag, the two images are an acorn and a thimble."

Wendy stared at him for a second before returning her eyes to the book.

"So...if the circle is the medallion, and the heart contains an acorn and a thimble," Wendy mused, reading the riddle again. "Bring two halves together...do you suppose it means bringing Peter and I together?"

"Either that...or what we thought, bring the two books together."

"But I left the copy I found back in my room...how do we bring it here?"

"Turn the page." Harry suggested.

Wendy gingerly pinched the page edge and turned it over, exposing a colourful plate depicting a figure that made all of them draw in a breath.

"Hook!"

Wendy placed the book back on the table and stared down at the painting, Hook's blue eyes bright in his swarthy face, appearing to stare at her out of the book, twinkling at her with a wicked gleam as if aware that she was there.

"It's telling us that Hook has the other book." Stubbs stated gloomily.

"And we're supposed to get it from him? How?" Asked Wendy, aghast.

"There's something else you should know." Harry said, drawing Wendy's attention away from Hook's hypnotic, painted eyes.

"What?"

"The Oracle told us of a prophecy, written a long time ago, that if the two stayed safe in good hands, Neverland would prosper, but...if the two fell into evil hands, then Neverland would end and a new world come into being. That world would become everything that Neverland was not, a winter gripped land without ever seeing the sun and all life corrupted within its influence. In other words...everything you see now would cease to exist and only darkness take its place."

"But that's awful!"

"And with one book already in Hook's hands, we have to keep this one out of his grasp or condemn Neverland to oblivion."

The three stared down at the book, then at each other.

Wendy spoke first. "Does Peter know of all this?"

"He knows of the prophecy...when it was clear he was changing, growing, he was given the Nymph with the Oracle already aboard."

"But where do I come into all this?"

"You're the acorn to his thimble...maybe only the two of you can join the books to become one..." Harry suggested, watching Wendy bite her bottom lip as she considered his words.

"Then what...or who is the third?"

"Third?" Both Stubbs and Harry spoke together.

Wendy quoted from the book. "When two become one then a third will arrive who will render the whole at peace once more...Who is the third?"

Both men shook their heads. "We've only ever known the prophecy, not this riddle."

"We need to speak to Peter. Maybe he can shed some light on this."

With exaggerated care, Wendy closed the book and slid it towards the center of the table, the lamp casting a puddle of light with the book at the center.

Slowly the three turned away, Harry picking up the lamp to light the way out of the room. On the way back up the steep ladders, Wendy turned The Oracle's words over and over in her mind. "When two become one...when two become one."

When they arrived at the upper levels they found the lamps lit along the passageway, night having fallen while they stood in the depths of the Nymph. Wendy could see light spilling from under Peter's cabin door and she pushed it open, nervous and excited at the same time.

Peter was sitting up in bed, a shirt covering his arms and chest, his expression faintly mutinous as he stared at the darkened windows and listened to the sounds of the ship. As Wendy entered the room he cast her a wary glance before passing on to the men crowding in behind her.

"Where have you all been?" He asked, studiously ignoring Wendy's presence as he watched his crewmen move to stand at the end of the bed.

"We took the young lady to see The Oracle." Stubbs informed him, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the door frame.

Peter finally looked at Wendy, noting the gleam of gold around her neck. "So now you know."

"Know what?...the book talks in riddles. Supposedly Hook has the partner to the one in the hold, and we're expected to wrest it from him."

Peter jerked his gaze back to the men by the door. "Hook has the book?"

"Seems so," said Harry, "It showed her...us a riddle about two becoming one...then it showed an image of Hook. It was pretty clear."

"What about..." Peter started to say only to have Wendy interrupt.

"They also told me about the prophecy...about what will happen to Neverland if the two books fall into the wrong hands."

"She's been having visions Peter...just as the book said."

Wendy stared at Harry in surprise. "You never said anything about that!"

"It was the final indicator that you are the one, Wendy." Harry told her, shrugging away his guilt at not telling her sooner.

"What did you see in your visions?" Peter asked, pulling Wendy's attention back to him.

"Snow...and every one gone." Wendy told him succinctly, her gaze unwavering.

"Then we have no choice...it's clear. We have to get the book from Hook and find a new hiding place for The Oracle."

Throwing the covers back, Peter swung his legs over the side of the bed and pushed himself upright. Wendy instantly stepped forward, along with Harry and Stubbs, all three attaching themselves to some part of Peter's anatomy.

"You can't..."

"Idiot...if you pull those stitches.."

"Hey lad...go easy..."

"LET ME GO!" Peter's shout sent his would-be supporters stepping back apace. Teetering only slightly, Peter held up his hands, palm out, to keep his over anxious nursemaids at bay.

"I'm still Captain of this ship...am I not?"

"But Peter..." Wendy received an upraised fingers for her pains.

Having silenced one, Peter raised his eyebrows at the others.

"Yes, Captain Sir.." said Stubbs, raising his hand in a salute.

"You've hardly had time to heal..." Harry spluttered to a halt, seeing the gleam in his patient's eye that spoke volumes.

"Peter..." Wendy used a milder tone to draw his attention. "There's not much we can do tonight...we're anchored in the river and safe...aren't we?" She turned to look at the two men listening in rapt attention. They both nodded vigorously.

"One more night won't make any difference to Hook...but it might make all the difference to you. Now we all know what has to be done, we can plan our next move...after the evening meal?"

As if debating the merits of her suggestion, Peter regarded each of them in turn, reading the silent pleading in his friends' eyes before returning his gaze to Wendy's.

"You may have the right of it...one more night won't make a bit of difference."

Wendy heaved a sigh at his words, noting the beads of perspiration standing out on his upper lip even as he swayed slightly.

"But at dawn we start planning how we're going to get the other book back...and I don't intend to do that from my bed!"

Gripping the carved wooden bed head, Peter remained standing until the two men had left, Wendy seeing the tension flow out of him as soon as the door closed. Darting forward she slipped her arm about his back as he wavered.

"Enough Peter...sit down before you fall down."

"I took you at your word..." He panted as she helped him stretch back out on the bunk. "From neck to ankle you said."

Wendy looked at him sideways, not understanding.

Peter grinned up at her as she fussed behind his head with the pillows.

"You said you wouldn't come back unless I was fully clothed." He explained, watching her cheeks colour up as she remembered his previous state of undress. When she unbent, the chain freed itself from the collar of her blouse and swung free in Peter's face, the acorn twisting as it fell. Peter caught it between his fingers and held it, perforce keeping Wendy bending over him as he inspected the token he'd given her so many years ago.

"My kiss." He said softly. "It looks like it did the day Tootles shot you from the sky."

"The book gave it back to me." Wendy told him, reaching out a hand to brace herself against the head of the bed. She felt strangely light headed watching as his long brown fingers caressed the small talisman, the chain tugging at her neck.

"Would you give me a kiss now, if I asked you...even though you don't love me?"

Wendy heard the wistful note in his voice and felt something twist inside her.

Pulling away, the acorn slipping from his fingers, Wendy stood beside the bed and looked down at him, his face upturned, watchfully intent, waiting for her answer.

"I never said I...couldn't love you Peter. I just think, as it's been so long, we should maybe get to know each other...a little better."

"I know all I need to know Wendy...what else is there?"

The echo of his words, the same he'd used when they'd been children, pierced her heart, her response almost the same, word for word.

"There's so much more...you don't really know me, not the grown up me."

"Is she so different?"

"I don't know...maybe."

"Your kiss says differently...it tells me nothing has really changed."

"How can a kiss tell you anything?" Wendy scoffed, her heart starting to beat rapidly.

"Yours can...I'll show you."

Ignoring the nagging ache in his side, Peter reached for her hand and pulled her down to sit on the bed. Holding her gaze, he lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing the peach softness as he brought his face close to her, their lips touching with the lightest of pressure, as soft as a butterflies wing. Wendy watched him with half closed eyes as he pulled away to gauge her reaction. Seeing nothing in her expression except bemused acceptance, Peter leant forward again, Wendy's eyes sliding shut as he pressed his lips to her's once more, sealing her mouth with his as he angled his head for greater contact.

After several pleasurable seconds, they parted to catch their breaths, Peter's heart beating so hard he was sure it would burst right out of his chest. He felt on fire all over, his blood singing in his veins. Wendy seemed to be similarly affected, her eyes still closed and her lips parted, her breath leaving her mouth in little puffs as she panted. Entranced, Peter swooped and captured her lips again, his fingers sliding into her hair to hold her still while he suckled her lips, his tongue tangling with hers for supremacy while her hands reached up to capture each side of his head, her fingers dallying around his ears and stroking his neck, driving him wild.

Unseen by either, the acorn around Wendy's neck started to glow, the green turning gold until the pendant became incandescent, the chain a ribbon of liquid sunlight about Wendy's neck. She felt no heat, only the intoxicating pressure of Peter's lips against her own, his fingers stoking over her head and igniting lights behind her closed eyelids.

While the pair remained oblivious, the glow started to encompass them both, outlining their bodies with a rim of gold, sparks shooting off in all directions until the air fairly crackled with static.

Peter and Wendy parted, both breathing heavily, to find that each was surrounded by a golden corona, the cabin suffused with a light that would have put the sun to shame.

"What's happening?" Wendy gasped, pressing herself closer and bringing the acorn pendant in direct contact with Peter. With the talisman trapped between them, the light suddenly flared and both squeezed their eyes tight shut against the unearthly glare, Wendy's face buried in Peter's shoulder, his buried in her's, his arms wrapped around her upper body as her twined hers around his neck.

In the blink of an eye they vanished.

At that second the door flew open and Stubbs stampeded into the cabin, the light still fading as the first mate stared incredulously at the glowing outline of two figures closely entwined. Even as he stared, Stubbs saw the glow fade to nothing, the after-image of the outline fading with it.

"Oh my gawd!"

Staring at the bed with disbelieving eyes, Stubbs hesitated, as if expecting the former occupants of the cabin to re-appear, but he waited in vain. Long seconds ticked by before he moved, lunging over to the bed and flinging the covers back as if expecting Peter and Wendy to be hiding somewhere. Realizing the futility of his search, Stubbs lurched out of the cabin and almost flattened Harry who had nearly reached the cabin door.

"I saw a light..." Harry started only to stop when Stubbs silently indicated the empty bunk.

"I saw the light too...hard to miss it, streaming out of every chink and crevice of the ship!"

"What did you see?" Harry asked, rounding on the first mate and grabbing his shirt front.

"Nothing...they were already gone when I got here."

"Where? Where have they gone?" Harry shouted, his fingers still locked in the material of Stubbs already threadbare shirt.

"I don't know...they're just gone!"

Suddenly Harry released the first mate and rushed out of the cabin, pushing through the throng of curious sailors crowding the passageway. Stubbs cast a last glance around the cabin before shouldering his way through the mob and followed the Doctor to the stairs leading down into the hold.

He caught up with the Doctor as he fumbled the key for the door protecting The Oracle.

Together the two men burst through and approached the small table. Harry struck a flint and ignited the lamp, the glow chasing the shadows back from the book which lay, in all innocence, where they'd left it.

Harry reached out, but Stubbs grasped his wrist to stay him.

"What are we going to find?" The first mate asked, fear evident in his voice.

"Won't know until I open it..." Harry told him, shaking off Stubbs hand and reaching for the cover. Flipping the book open the two stared down at the page and felt their mouth's hanging open in surprise.

All the pages had been dyed a deep, indigo blue with a multitude of stars scattered like diamonds over each page. Harry turned page after page but could only find the image of the stars on each sheet.

"What does it mean?" Stubbs asked in an awed whisper.

Harry shut the book and stared up at the ceiling of the cabin, as if trying to see the stars for real beyond the decking of the Nymph.

"I don't know my friend...something has changed. Whether for good or bad, we'll have to wait and find out like the rest of Neverland."

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

TBC...


	8. Tis written in the stars

20/09/05 

Title: To Have & To Hold

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Eight - 'Tis written in the Stars

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"Wendy...open your eyes."

Peter's voice floated to her on the whisper of a cool breeze. Hardly daring to move, Wendy lifted her head a fraction from the warm pillow of his shoulder and blinked open her eyes.

"Peter...are we dead?"

"I don't think so...I don't feel dead."

Wendy stared over Peter's shoulder in wonder at the blanket of bright stars surrounding them on all sides, as far as her eyes could see.

"Is this real?" Wendy asked, her grip on his neck loosening a tiny bit as she twisted her head to look further.

"Maybe...I don't know."

"This is another of my hallucinations...we're really back on the ship in your cabin, and...and..."

"But you feel solid," Peter squeezed his arms and Wendy hissed. "And you smell solid." He buried his nose back in her hair and gave an audible sniff.

"That doesn't mean a thing...all my previous vision, if you want to call them that, were as real to me as this...except..."

"Except what?"

"Usually I'm alone."

"Not this time..." He gave her another squeeze, receiving one in return, Wendy still pressed so close a wafer wouldn't have passed between them.

"What do you see Peter?...I only see stars, no island, no clouds..."

"No ship, no moon...nothing." Peter finished for her.

"Then what...what is holding us...up?" Wendy whispered, as if voicing the improbability would make it somehow vanish.

Peter remained silent, the thoughts chasing around his head like a fish in a bowl.

Tentatively he loosened his grip on Wendy, his hands coming up to pull her arms from around his neck. At first she resisted, but then allowed him to pull himself free, his fingers lacing with hers at the last to keep a connection while they parted.

Wendy steeled herself and looked down, the stars visible between her feet as they were above her head. Peter also looked down, then lifted one of his feet, inspecting the sole. Replacing his foot, he twisted it as if grinding something in to the ground.

"I can't feel anything...but it feels solid." He explained, when he caught Wendy's inquiring look.

"I feel a breeze...not cold, but not hot either."

As if only waiting for her to speak of it, the breeze picked up strength and blew a gust of air over them, lifting tendrils of Wendy's hair and ruffling Peter's curls. They both turned in the direction the breeze had come, expecting something to appear.

"Are you looking for me?"

The voice, coming from the opposite direction to where they were looking, made Wendy jump and let out a squeak, both of them turning to face the owner of the voice.

"Don't be alarmed, I don't intend any harm to either of you."

At first they could see nothing, the stars as bright as before and as impenetrable. Then a faint outline started to form, a figure wearing a long, flowing robe that roiled and floated about the person like smoke rising from the a fire.

"I have been waiting for this moment a long time...welcome to the Never Realm."

Still not able to see more than an outline and the swirling robe, Peter exchanged a glance with Wendy before clearing his throat.

"Why are we here...did you bring us?" Asked Peter, pulling Wendy into his side.

"Not exactly...I am the keeper of the Realm, but not the creator. You, however, are the one to become the Peacekeeper of all the Never worlds, it is foretold."

"To find the treasure, you must bring two halves together to make a whole." Said Wendy, quoting the riddle in the book, her face blank as if in a trance.

"When you gave her the acorn, it started a chain of events, which will ultimately culminate with you," the figure pointed to Peter, "becoming what none have become before." The creatures voice suddenly turned into a booming echo. "The Ruler of the Three Kingdoms, King of Neverland."

Both Wendy and Peter had clapped their hands over their ears as the voice deafened them. As the last booming syllable rolled into the distance, Peter lowered his hands.

"How is it I have never heard of this before...and why me?"

"You have been in training all these years...learning how to become the leader of men, how to fight, how to possess and defend, how to communicate with the different creatures that inhabit Neverland..these are all skills that a King must learn before taking the throne."

The creature approached closer, the tendrils of its robes swirling around Peter and Wendy, stroking over their arms and faces as their wearer circled the couple.

"What does a ruler do?" Peter asked, his eyes following the creature as it moved around them.

"Why rule, of course...you would have the power to do whatever you wanted, be whoever you wanted, have whatever you wanted...destroy anything or...anyone."

"What if I don't want all that?"

As if never having considered the possibility, the creature halted in its swirling path and stood stock still, even its robe settling down from the incessant movement for a long moment.

Only just noticing that Wendy had remained unusually silent, Peter looked at her and noticed that her eyes, although wide open, appeared glazed with a far-away look, her face devoid of expression. Grasping her shoulders, Peter shook her, her head lolling on her neck but not changing the slack expression on her face.

"Wendy...Wendy! What's wrong with her...Wendy?"

"Your consort is displaying the proper respect for your new position." The creature explained smugly, a tendril of smoke reaching out to stroke over Wendy's face. Peter batted at it, his hand feeling the cold left behind on her skin.

"I don't want to be a-a-a King...Neverland doesn't need one."

"Don't be stupid boy!" The creature hissed, sweeping forward. "This is your destiny...the prophecy...the book!"

Still trying to rouse Wendy, Peter ignored the creature. "Wendy...wake up, come on...say something."

Behind him, the smokey outline started to grow, expanding and blotting out the stars, swirls of grey smoke thrashing about the creature as it swelled.

"You cannot ignore what I offer you...you will be the Ruler of the Three Kingdoms..." Again the voice boomed out, making Peter wince.

"I won't...and no keeper is going to tell me what to do, or a book...so send us back to the Nymph!"

"You cannot refuse your legacy boy...you will be King of Neverland...or Neverland will suffer the consequences of your rash refusal."

"Send us back!"

"You will bring the wrath of the Oracle on your head, and hers...everyone will suffer!" Surrounding the couple, the smoke creature flung out his hands at Peter, a buffeting wind almost knocking him over, snatching at Wendy until he wrapped her in his arms and braced himself, the acorn pendant once more trapped between then. Gritting his teeth, he staggered as a gust threatened to knock them both to their knees. Pressed between them the acorn started to glow, its light surrounding Peter and Wendy, the shadow creature letting out a shriek and backing away from the pulsing glow as it suffused the humans before blinking them both out of existence.

For a second the creature floated in one spot, the swirling cloak licking lazily around it. Then it exploded into animation, a keening scream issuing from the region of its head as it darted around where the humans had stood, the outline fading until only the voice remained.

"Thwart me at your peril, impudent youth...you will be my instrument, whether by fair means or foul. Time, I think, to visit your enemy and see if he can't force you into accepting what will be...Neverland will be mine...and you will be my willing acolyte."

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Their return to Neverland was nowhere near as gentle as their arrival among the stars. The acorn pendant deposited them on the slopes of the volcano, several feet in the air above a coarse grassy knoll, Peter still wrapped around Wendy so that they landed together but quickly fell apart as they rolled to the bottom of the hillock. Peter lay, winded and bruised, staring up into the welcome brilliance of a Neverland sky, the clouds scudding across the blue expanse, blotting out the sun for long intervals while Peter gathered his scattered wits enough to move.

Groaning, he rolled slowly on to his side, noting absently that, apart from an assortment of aches from the journey down the hillside, his injury appeared to be healed. Sitting up, he gingerly tested his theory and probed where the bullet wound should have been. Feeling nothing but his poking finger, Peter lifted his shirt and pressed harder directly over the area. Again there was no twinge, no pain to make him wince.

"Hey...it doesn't hurt any more...Wendy, I'm healed!"

Getting no reply, Peter twisted around and searched the grassy area, seeing Wendy's body off to the left, laying on her side with her back to him. Alarmed at her stillness, Peter scrambled to his feet and staggered slightly over to her. Dropping down, he grabbed her shoulder and pulled her onto her back. Hair covered her face so he gently brushed it back, noting as he did that her skin had lost its coolness, her eyes closed as if only asleep.

"Wendy, wake up...we're back in Neverland...come on sweetness, open those eyes for me."

Tapping her cheek he tried to rouse her, his frustration at her lack of response prompting him to lean down and cover her mouth with his own, the kiss at first un reciprocated, then he felt her move against him, her lips sliding across his as she returned his kiss for several delicious seconds.

Roused to full consciousness, Wendy became aware of a wonderful warmth flooding her body, her limbs tingling as if suffused with static, her lungs straining as she eagerly returned the pressure on her mouth. With a gasp she broke the kiss and stared up at Peter in surprise, his own expression a mixture of relief and smug satisfaction.

"I thought I was going to have to make love to you to make you wake up." He remarked cheekily, grinning down at her as she struggled to remember how she had arrived at where she was.

"Where are we?"

"On the slopes of the Smoking Giant, half way up the north side."

"W-w-what?"

"On the slopes..."Peter started to repeat, only to have Wendy shove her hands against his chest and push him away. Rolling on to her side, she staggered to her feet, almost falling as her toes became tangled in her skirts. Peter rose and steadied her when she swayed, her free hand coming up to shield her eyes as she stared up at the volcano looming above them.

"Oh Lord...how did we get here, I thought we were up there...among the stars."

"I'm not sure where we were before...it's possible the Keeper just made it look like the stars."

"The Keeper...was there someone else there?"

"You don't remember?"

"It's rather fuzzy...I remember seeing the stars, and I think I quoted something of that riddle from the book...but after that..." Wendy shrugged, shaking her head as she tried to remember more. "Sorry, it's a blank."

"Well never mind...you didn't miss much." Keeping his hand on her arm, Peter took his bearings from the peak of the volcano and turned to lead her down the slope.

"Where are we going now?" Wendy asked, tripping over an unseen obstruction in the long grass as they pushed their way through.

"We have to find the Nymph...if we're on the North side, they are on the South side, assuming that they're still berthed in Cannibal Creek."

"Why wouldn't they be...and we have a problem if you expect me to walk that distance."

Peter halted and turned to look at her. Wendy pointedly lifted her skirts above her ankles and wiggled her bare toes.

"Damn." Peter swore, his mind furiously offering alternatives.

"Why don't we fly?" Wendy asked.

"I can't." Peter replied baldly, his hands on his hips as he considered their options.

"Why ever not? You used to."

"As it has apparently escaped your notice, I got big."

"So?"

"So I lost the ability to fly along with my youth."

"You're not exactly an old man, Peter."

"Too old apparently for some things."

"Oh...I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Well...I suppose it's all my fault, that you got big and can't fly."

Peter looked down at his toes, then up at the mountain, avoiding Wendy's eyes. "Not entirely."

Turning his back on her he started off down the slope, Wendy following.

"What does that mean...not entirely?"

"It means...I could have stayed the way I was, if I'd wanted to...but I didn't."

"Oh...you mean you chose to grow up?"

"Yes."

"Oh...I thought you never wanted to become a man, to grow up."

"I didn't...but then..."

"Then?"

Peter abruptly stopped and swung around so that Wendy, practically on his heels, had to take a step back to avoid cannoning in to him. Moving with the speed of a striking snake, Peter closed the gap and caught her face between his hands, his lips capturing hers in a searing kiss that made her toes curl. Before she had a chance to bring her own hands up he released her, so suddenly she rocked back on her heels.

"That changed my mind...I wanted to do that again, and I couldn't if I stayed the way I was."

"Oh." Wendy said again, faintly, her cheeks suffused with colour as she stared into his eyes.

"Exactly." Said Peter, his mouth curling up into a crooked smile. "I decided that being a man might not be as bad as I thought."

"Oh." Wendy said again. Peter chuckled.

"Is that all you can say?"

"Um...no, but if you keep on kissing me like that it might be."

"I could see that being an advantage." He grinned at her, flicking her nose with a casual finger before turning away to continue their trek down the mountain.

Feeling buoyed up with emotion, Wendy fairly skipped after him, a stone bringing her up short with a cry of pain.

"Ouch, that hurt...I could do with some shoes."

"As soon as we reach the tree line, I'll make you some footwear."

"That would be helpful."

Belatedly Wendy remembered that Peter was supposed to be injured.

"Peter!"

"What?"

"You're walking!"

"You only just noticed?"

"No, I mean...your side, the bullet wound...you could barely get out of bed."

Stopping again, Peter lifted his shirt and started to unwind the bandage wrapped around his middle. "All healed...at least there's no pain, so I'm assuming it's all right now."

Wendy watched in astonishment as the last of the bandage unraveled, the pad falling away to reveal a smooth expanse of Peter's skin, a pink pucker the only evidence of the near-fatal wound in his side.

"But that's impossible...isn't it?"

"Nah...I heal well, always have...plus it's a possibility that we have been away a lot longer than it appears."

"I beg your pardon?"

"How long do you think we've been gone from the Nymph?"

"A few hours?" Wendy hazarded, frowning.

"More like a few days, if my guess is right."

"A few days?"

"Yup. See up there." He pointed back up at the volcano peak. Wendy turned to stare in the direction of his finger. "When we were searching for you, there was no snow on the summit...now the snow line is already creeping down towards the upper slopes."

"Good grief...how long does that usually take?"

"Depending on the weather...a week of me being absent from Neverland usually."

"Oh goodness...so even though you can't fly anymore, you still effect the weather?"

Peter nodded, shrugging deprecatingly. "I can't control that."

He turned away, bundling the bandage loosely around his waist, the pad tucked into his waistband. Wendy hitched up her skirts and followed him through the tall grass, the sun beating down on her unprotected head and making her sweat, her blouse quickly becoming damp and clinging to her back. Peter appeared unaffected by the heat and Wendy envied his deep tan from endless days spent under the Neverland sun, her own skin prickled with incipient sunburn as they trudged ever closer to the tall trees and their promised shade.

Finally they reached the welcome gloom of the forest, the trees towering over their heads as Peter led them along a rabbit path, the sudden gloom like passing from day to night, the temperature dropping accordingly. Wendy raised her arm and wiped the sweat from her face, her sleeve already stained with moisture, the cuff grubby with the dust thrown up by their passage through the grass. Her clothes itched with the seeds that filled the air and she longed for a chance to bathe.

Conversation had been infrequent, both wanting to get out of the heat of the afternoon, Wendy concentrating on keeping her feet across the rough ground, Peter racking his memory for any information on the area they were to traverse. For all his time spent on the island, it still had areas that were largely unexplored by himself, charted only vaguely by the people that lived on Neverlands' shores and along its waterways. Peter had often flown over the area they were in, on his way to and from wherever he was going, but he'd never actually set foot within the almost impenetrable forests that clothed the flanks of the still active volcano. Now he was being guided by instinct, the faint rabbit path threading its way through the trees, leading them to what, Peter didn't know, only a strong feeling that it would lead them somewhere kept him going, Wendy a stumbling step behind him.

"Not far now." He suddenly announced, jerking Wendy out of her stupor.

"Not far from what?"

"Shoes and a bath for you, shelter for the night and a guide."

Wendy blinked at Peter's back. "How do you know all this?"

"I don't...I just feel it."

"Oh, well that's alright then...I hate to base an opinion on anything more substantial than a feeling...did this feeling tell you how much further we could expect to have to trek?"

Ignoring Wendy's biting sarcasm, Peter grinned to himself, trusting to something inside him that said over and over that a refuge was just up ahead.

A thicket blocked their way but Peter pushed right on through, ignoring the sting of prickles that scraped his skin. On the other side he slowed to survey their safe haven for the night. Wendy dragged herself through the hedge, hearing her blouse and skirt rip as she fought against the thorns holding her back.

"I certainly hope this shelter has a change of clothes, mine have just been shredded." Wendy grumbled, not looking up as she tried to detach her skirt from a persistent thorn.

"I wouldn't be surprised." Peter replied, laughing as he stared at the edifice before them.

"What are you laughing at...oh my Lord." Wendy swung round with a sharp twist, finally freeing herself, her head jerking up to see what amused Peter. "Where on all of Neverland did that come from?"

In front of them rose up the log palisade of a fort, the sturdy gates hanging drunkenly open on rusted hinges. The walls were covered in vines and creeping weeds, camouflaging the logs and softening the sharpened points edging the top. Peter walked through the half open gates and pushed his way through the rank grass, turning around to survey the rest of the compound as they carved a path through the weeds.

"What is this place?" Wendy asked, impressed with the strength of the fort, the wood not rotten or damaged, despite its air of abandonment and desolation.

"This must be Fort Sumpter...I'd heard about it from the Indian's but I never found it, now I know why."

"Who built it?"

"No one knows...maybe the same person who built the Black Castle, or Skull Island." Peter shrugged, heading towards a collection of buildings sheltered against the inner wall.

Kicking accumulated dust and leaves from in front of a door, Peter pulled it open. "I found you a change of clothes!" He announced, sauntering over to a large armoire standing against the wall and opening the ornately carved doors. Wendy hurried across the floor to peer over his shoulder, her gasp of surprise making Peter indicate the contents with a flourish of his hand.

"Take your pick, m'lady...there should be something here you can use."

Wendy stared at the odd collection of clothes both hanging from the rail and stacked on the shelves in the huge cupboard. On the floor were boots of many styles and sizes, all covered in dust and draped with cobwebs. "It's like a huge, grownup dressing-up cupboard."

She riffled through the items hanging up and found them to be a strange assortment of uniforms from many different era's, many heavily decorated with braid and epaulets. Off to one side she found a selection of women's clothing, also very dusty, but quite serviceable. Beneath the dresses were stacked slippers and shoes to match, along with hats and gloves heaped all higgledy-piggledy.

Peter had wandered off and was investigating the doors leading off from the room. Every now and then he would shout back to Wendy, informing her of what he'd found.

"There's a bedroom back here...and it has a bathroom of sorts off it."

Wendy pulled a dress off a hanger and shook it, a cloud of dust making her cough. "Wonderful...is there any water?"

Peter's voice floated back to her through the thickness of the walls. "No water...but there's sure to be a well around here somewhere."

Wendy had put an array of shoes on the floor and was trying them for size, her dirty scratched feet a perfect match for the dusty, age stained shoes she was attempting to put on.

Peter's voice came from a greater distance and she cocked her head to listen.

"Found a kitchen...plenty of dishes, but no food."

At that moment Wendy's stomach decided to protest, growling loudly and making her giggle. "Can't have everything." She chastised her internal organs.

Draping the dress over the back of a musty chair, Wendy hobbled over to the door in her borrowed shoes. She stared around the weed infested area outside the huts and found what she was looking for.

"I see the well..now all we need is a bucket." She called out.

Not bothering to wait for Peter, Wendy made her way to the low stone circle rising only just above the tall weeds. Resting her hands on the cold stone, she peered into the dark depths for inspiration on how to raise the water below. There might have been a wooden cross bar at one time from which a bucket was raised and lowered, but that had long gone, leaving no obvious way to get at the water in the well.

Refusing to be defeated, Wendy edged her way around and was rewarded with the toe of her shoe kicking against something that rang like a bell. Clearing away the grass she found it to be a dented metal bucket with a handle, a tuft of rotted rope still tied to it.

"Now all I need is a length of rope and my bath is only a bucket of water away."

"Did you mention rope?" Peter's voice came from behind her and she jumped, a coil of rope landing at her feet. With nimble fingers Peter knotted the rope around the metal handle of the bucket and lowered it over the side of the stone wall. It clanked loudly as it disappeared into the darkness, Wendy hanging over the edge to watch its progress. Soon after it passed out of sight they heard a splash. Peter looped the rope around his hand and started to pull it back up, Wendy watching for the bucket to appear.

"I can see it...oh dear, it's caught on a ledge," Wendy exclaimed just as Peter gave a tug and the bucket upended, spilling its contents. "Oh no..." Wendy moaned softly, watching the bucket bump its way back up to the top.

"Look around and see if you can find something to span the well, we need to keep the bucket away from the sides." Peter told her.

They both looked, trampling down the weeds around the well until Peter swooped on a patch of straggly shrub and lifted up a half-round log, easily wide enough to span the opening. With that in place the next bucket reached the top without mishap and Wendy clapped her hands when Peter presented her with the brimming bucket. She dipped in her fingers and scooped up a handful of water, gulping down the cool liquid thankfully. Peter did the same and they took turns until they'd drunk their fill.

The problem of water solved, Peter took Wendy on a tour of all he'd discovered. From the first room, he led her into the one next door which, as he'd said, was a bedroom, or more properly a bunk room, with two rows of beds against each wall. Most were just the frames with no mattresses, the one remaining palliasse barely distinguishable from a collection of rags and straw. Through another door they found the bathroom, containing just an old tin hip bath and an assortment of grimy hand basins set on a wooden bench. Further exploration led them to the kitchen with tables set out with long benches, grouped around a large central fire pit with a rusty metal spit still in place over the dead ashes.

Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust and debris, leaves and twigs scattered all over the floor and wind blown detritus heaped at regular intervals against table legs and the corners of walls. None of the windows had glass and there were no curtains to be seen, the whole barely livable in its present state.

Wendy found it all rather depressing, her mouth drooping as she bent to avoid the hanging cobwebs looped from beam to beam above their heads. Glad to escape, she pushed open the door and stepped outside.

Breathing deeply she stared up at the sky, noting that the sun had gone behind the trees, plunging the fort into deep shade. Rubbing her arms she turned as Peter joined her.

"What are we going to do for food? It's going to be dark soon."

"If I can leave you to take care of the fire, I'll go see what there is to hunt out there."

"But you don't have any weapons."

"I found the armory...some of it's too rusty to use, but there's a couple of things I can cobble together. Can you get that fire going?"

"Oh, I'll manage...take care Peter...I'm still not convinced you're completely recovered from that injury."

Rolling his eyes, Peter darted forward and grabbed Wendy around her waist, swinging her up and round, her hands grabbing at his shirt, her legs kicking. Peter whooped and laughed, spinning them both around, almost overbalancing as Wendy shrieked and clutched at him.

"Put me down you idiot!" Wendy screamed, Peter stopping suddenly and dropping her feet to the dirt, his arm holding her close as she swayed from dizziness.

"Satisfied?"

"I'll keep the home fires burning!" Wendy replied breathlessly, immediately missing the strength of his arm when he withdrew from her. Biting her lip, she watched as Peter swaggered away through the long grass.

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tbc...


	9. Time out of Time

25/09/05 

Title: To Have & To Hold

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Nine - Time out of Time

Rating: R - if this rating is too high, or you are too young, you can miss this chapter and not completely ruin the story for yourself.

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Authors Note: Here be dragons...or rather, here be the naughty stuff. If you be of a tender and youthful persuasion, be gone and don't read any further. If, on the other hand, you are quite ready to read an orgy of fluff and nonsense, including naughty sexual stuff and heady romance between consenting characters, then read on...and don't blame me if your underwear melts from the heat generated by this chapter. You have been warned. Of course, as always it is written with all due regard to good taste, to the best of my ability, despite blatant, gratuitous bath scenes and rampant nudity.  
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Wendy poked disconsolately at the fire burning brightly within the circle of stones, her chin resting on her hand as she sighed again, her eyes drawn to the darkness beyond the windows. After Peter left on his hunt for their food, Wendy had rummaged through the rooms and gathered what she could find to use to make their accommodation more habitable. Despite her ragged blouse and skirt, she didn't change but kept them on, preferring to worry about changing when she had finished the worst of the cleaning up. She had gathered a fair bundle of twigs and dry branches from around the small buildings before snapping off a handful of the shrubby weeds and using them as brooms to sweep out the old ash and accumulated rubbish around the fire. Thoroughly grimy, she then set to and cleaned as much of the floor area as she deemed necessary to give them somewhere to sleep and eat. As the sunlight faded, she used the rusted tinderbox she'd found to ignite the dry grasses which quickly flared up, the equally dry kindling glowing as it sent up sparks to the roof opening above. With the fire well alight, Wendy hurried to the dressing up cupboard and gathered together as many clothes as she could carry, dragging them back to the central room and heaping them on the floor, making several trips before she was satisfied she had enough. She then sorted through them by the light of the fire and set aside a suit of clothes for Peter alongside the dress she'd chosen for herself. The remainder were laid out to make a soft bed, the worst of the dust shaken out of them and placed button side down. She had found a collection of buckets, both wooden and metal, and they now stood near the fire waiting for their turn to be suspended over the flames to warm the water for the old bath. That had also been dragged into use, positioned near the fire, a old rope used to create a curtain around the hip bath using some of the clothes. It was crude but better than nothing. One bucket of water had been already heated and used to clean up a collection of plates, mugs and cutlery, in preparation for the meal to come, Wendy unable to countenance using them in their original state.

Now she sat, exhausted and a little anxious, her eyes constantly straining to see beyond the limit of the fire's light to the darkness outside and Peter's anticipated return.

She wanted desperately to take a bath, her hands and forearms the only part of her to be clean after washing the dishes, but she also didn't want to be caught by Peter with nothing on except her modesty.

As she stared into the flames once more, she pondered what she was going to do about him, her feelings see-sawing between throwing herself into his arms and letting common sense be damned, or keeping him at arm's length until she had a declaration out of him as to his intentions.

Everything was happening too fast for her to catch up, her fear for his well being after the fight outweighing her natural caution around someone she hardly knew. Of course, Neverland was not exactly a normal place for any kind of sensible consideration, given the fact she had been snatched apparently at the whim of a book and possibly Peter, and getting to know someone as volatile and unpredictable as Peter Pan was rather like catching lightning in a bottle - impossible.

But for all that, she did know that he cared for her, felt something for her, just as he had when she'd first been brought to his world, her own feelings thrown into disarray by his devastating use of physical persuasion against his apparently ambivalent emotional state.

It all made her head ache.

She wished he would appear in the doorway, successful in his hunt or not, and put her fears to rest.

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Peter hoisted the carcass over his shoulder, disregarding the gore trickling down his back. The sunset through the trees was casting strange colored shadows over the forest floor and he turned his face in the direction he felt the fort was placed.

He hoped Wendy would be pleased with his catch, his forehead furrowing briefly as he considered that she might not take to kindly to having a bloody carcass to cook. He'd also bagged some small birds and fish to add to their meal. From his belt hung another bag containing a haul of fruit to give them a dessert. In all he'd been very successful and felt a glow warming his heart as he pictured Wendy's heartfelt gratitude delivered in a bone melting kiss when the hunter returned.

Shifting the heavy body across his shoulder again, he thought about his feelings for Wendy, trying to part his rampant physical desire for her from what his heart was trying to tell him.

Did he love her? Or just want her? And would either be enough to satisfy the longing that gnawed at his insides whenever he was with her. He smiled to himself with the satisfaction of knowing that she was far from indifferent to him, her childish infatuation transmuted and recreated into feelings that he hoped were bordering on love.

But did he love her?

He loved the way her face lit up whenever their eye's met, he loved the way her lips pulled up at the corners, he loved the way she moved, the way she touched him, the way she laughed. He love the way she reacted when he teased her, her eyes flashing anger and indignation before softening, unable to remain angry with him for long.

Was that enough?

Sighing gustily Peter quickened his pace as the walls of the palisade appeared from out of the trees, the final burst of color in the sky above him turning the weed choked walls a briefly muted red before disappearing altogether and leaving the fort shrouded in gloom. As he pushed past the leaning gates he saw the glow of a fire in one of the huts, the flicker of flames casting a golden glow over the interior and warming him immeasurably to know that Wendy was there waiting for him.

The thought of a warm fire put new strength in his legs and he strutted up to the door of the hut and flung it wide, turning sideways to get himself and his trophies through the opening.

"Oh thank heaven's you're back." Wendy cried, jumping to her feet and hurrying over to relieve him of some of his burdens.

"Did you miss me?"

"Of course not." Wendy retorted, quickly sweeping off a table top to allow him to lay the still dripping carcass down. Glad to get the weight off his shoulders, Peter stood for a moment and flexed his arms, feeling the sinews tense then relax as he let go a sigh of relief.

"Good grief but you're a sight!" Wendy exclaimed as the firelight illuminated the gore coating his front and arms.

Peter shrugged and divested himself of the weapons he'd found in the armory and the rest of the food. "No blood, no bounty!"

"Too true...more's the pity. Strip off that shirt, I have a bucket here for you to sluice off before we prepare that meat."

Grateful to pull off the sodden shirt, Peter wadded it into a ball and tossed it into a distant corner while Wendy fetched the bucket and a bundle of cloths for him to use.

"What I really need is a bath." Peter stated ruefully, looking at the small bucket and then down at the expanse of blood coated skin covering his chest and belly.

"Yes...I can quite see that. I'll need to warm some more buckets, so why don't you do what you have to do to that," she pointed to the carcass, "and I'll see about filling that tub."

Building up the fire, Wendy hung two buckets over the flames and watched as they steamed, Peter turning his back and slicing off the hide to expose the choice cuts of meat, placing them on a plate ready to be spitted before cooking over the flames.

With the meat sliced, he turned to the birds. Sitting sideways on a bench he quickly divested the pullets of their feathers, the air filling with downy fluff, before he gutted them and threaded them on a spit ready for roasting. While he worked he watched Wendy lift the buckets off the cross bar and carry them over to the bath, using cloths to protect her hands from the hot metal. After emptying several buckets into the tub, he watched as she wiped a grubby sleeve across her forehead to catch the sweat pouring off her face, flames highlighting the sheen of moisture as it dripped down her neck and under her blouse.

One particular drip had him mesmerized, the tiny bead of dew snaking down and disappearing from sight, his imagination supplying its route between her breasts and beyond.

"I think they're ready to be cooked...don't you?" Wendy's voice snapped him out of his trance, her eyes flicking between his face and the plump birds waiting to be turned into their supper.

Getting to his feet he approached the fire and deftly positioned the birds above the flames, the skin searing instantly, burning off the last of the feathers. Beyond the fire the bath steamed gently to itself, luring him around the fire to dip his fingers in and test the temperature.

"Perfect."

Suddenly he couldn't wait to get his clothes off, shucking his pants without a thought for his audience and stepping into the tin tub, turning around to face the fire before sinking down in to the hot water. He groaned his pleasure as the water soaked into his tired limbs, his head falling back on the edge of the tub as another moan passed his lips.

"Peter?"

Lifting his impossibly heavy head, he saw Wendy watching him with an amused expression, one eyebrow raised as she held her hand out to him.

"You might use these...and don't be all night, I want to get rid of a days worth of dust and spiders webs myself before we eat."

Taking the wash clothes, Peter energetically scrubbed his skin, the draped curtain of clothes keeping out the worst of the drafts, the fire hot and bright in front of the bath. Wendy busied herself on the other side of the fire, her face feeling hot from the flush of seeing Peter once more as naked as God created him, her previous decision to keep a cool distance between herself and Peter until she saw some indication of his intentions, blown all to heaven and back with his shedding of his clothes with as little regard to her presence as a babe.

Surreptitiously she watched him splash about, twisting and turning his torso to reach his back and arms, her eyes drawn to the play of muscles under the golden skin, the fire highlighting the water dripping off tousled hair and firm chin.

"You're staring." Peter's amused voice snapped her back to the present and she blinked across the fire at him, finding his eyes twinkling back at her, his lips pulled back in a grin of pure wickedness. Before she could voice a denial or turn her head away, he rose up in a single motion, like a golden god rising from the sea, water cascading off firm thighs and long legs, tapering hips and narrow waist, drips lingering on the ends of strong fingers and trailing across a well defined chest, down an indented abdomen and beyond.

Unable to pull her eyes away from the bounty before her, Wendy could only sit immobile, her mouth hanging inelegantly open as he stepped out of the hip bath and pulled an item of clothing down off the line and started to dry himself.

"Your turn." Peter said softly.

Snapping her mouth shut, Wendy swallowed hard and finally managed to tear her eyes from him, turning her head away so swiftly she almost twisted her neck in the process.

"Oh dear." Wendy murmured faintly, pacing slowly around the fire as Peter stepped further away from the bath.

"Am I supposed to wear something from here?" Peter asked, indicating the curtain of clothes.

"Oh...er..no. I have a set of clothes for you...here...they've been shaken free of dust and are as clean as I can get them." Wendy handed him the neatly folded shirt and breeches, her eyes fixed above his waistline. Their fingers brushed lightly as he accepted the bundle, Wendy stifling a gasp as a frission of heat passed between them. Peter felt it too and his eyes gleamed, firelight flashing off his toothy grin before he turned away to dress.

Keeping half an eye on Peter's broad shoulders, Wendy slipped behind the crude curtain afforded by the hanging clothes and reached behind her back to free the buttons holding the remains of her blouse against her sticky back. Freed of her tight bodice, Wendy fumbled for the buttons of her skirt, her fingers clumsy as she tried to still their nervous tremor. With the skirt a dusty puddle at her feet, Wendy turned her back on the fire and reached up to unpin her hair, the tangled mass falling down her back almost to her hips once it was free. Feeling a little less exposed, Wendy untied the lacings holding her camisole together, slipping it off her shoulders to join the rest of her clothes at her feet. With her arms crossed over her chest, Wendy stood undecided whether to part with her last item of clothing, her eyes fixed on the murky water swirling in the bath while she screwed up her courage to drop her bloomers. As she remained irresolute, Peter came up behind her, reaching past to deposit the last two buckets of warmed water into the bath, bringing the water nearly up to the lip, steam curling off the surface.

"Don't let it get cold." He admonished her, a teasing note in his voice before he returned to the fire, leaving her still standing undecided. Biting her lip she considered the alternative of sleeping in the sweat and dirt of the day.

"Just ignore him...imagine he's invisible." Wendy muttered to herself, turning around and stepping into the bath, sinking below the level of the water as far as she could go. Feeling the warm water soak some of the aches from her limbs, Wendy bent her knees and sunk down under the water, soaking her hair to rinse the dust from it. Rising up, she smoothed the hair from her face with her hands before reaching for a wash cloth and vigorously scrubbed her tingling skin, never once looking at the man on the other side of the fire.

Peter tried to concentrate on the birds roasting on the spit, but his eyes kept being drawn irresistibly to the figure across from him, her pale limbs dipping and swaying as she washed herself, her hair slicked back from her face revealing her sweet features washed golden by the flames. Like a caress he let his eyes dwell on the long neck, the taut tendons drawing him inexorably down and over the slender bones of her shoulders and arms, down her chest to the rise and fall of her breasts, water making them glow and reflect sparks of light from the fire, the tips like dark coins against the white of their flesh.

He lingered over those enticing globes, his body held in thrall as his eyes caressed her, following the stroke of her hand as she washed herself, her face averted even as her wash cloth swept her skin with slow movements. Swallowing hard he tried to drag his gaze away from her, a muscle twitching in his cheek as he strained to break the spell cast by the girl opposite him.

As if only just becoming aware of his regard, Wendy raised her eyes, the long lashes spiked with water,and encountered his across the smoking flames, her hand stilled as it lowered to rinse the cloth in the cooling water, her lips parting on a gasp of awareness.

A log suddenly split in the fire, the loud crack making them both jump as sparks sparkled the air above the roasting birds. Instantly the fragile connection between them was shattered, Wendy feeling the blush of mortification rush into her face, the shaming heat spreading throughout her body as she once more crossed her arms over her breasts, twisting around in the bath, her knees drawn up to her chest to preserve her modesty. At the same moment Peter dropped his eyes to the fire and busied himself turning the cooked birds on the spit, their juices hissing as they dripped into the embers, his face becoming flushed and prickly from the heat.

Wendy couldn't believe she'd forgotten that Peter was only across the fire from her, the warm water making her forget everything in the bliss of removing the dust and sweat coating her skin. Turning around completely, she knelt in the tub, her back to the fire, and dunked her hair once more, swishing it through the water before raising her head and squeezing the excess water out of the tangled strands. She was still wearing her long bloomers, the material clinging to her flesh like a second skin. Despite knowing that they were now as transparent as glass, she felt they gave her a modicum of protection, as ridiculous as if may seem. Twisting her hair so that it lay over her chest, she risked a glance over her shoulder and saw that Peter's head was lowered, a splash of tell-tale red painting his cheeks as he fussed with the meat cooking over the fire.

With her hands covering her breasts she slowly rose up out of the water and reached for an undershirt hanging on the rope. Wrapping it about her front she hastily dried herself, her bloomers feeling clammy and cold about her legs as the night air cooled the damp material.

Peter heard her moving about in the bath and forcefully kept his eyes on the fire, his fingers clenching until the knuckles showed white on the twig he'd found among the firewood. His face still burned and he couldn't stand seeing Wendy's accusing eyes across the flames, his body as tight as a bow string as he fought the urge to look up.

Despite many delightful fantasies about Wendy and water after she'd thrown that cupful over him in the cabin, the reality was far more than he'd ever thought possible. A soft cry of pain jerked his head up and he half rose before biting hard on his lip to suppress a moan of longing.

Wendy had her back to him, one leg out of the bath, her hair looped over her shoulder and an old shirt clutched to her chest as an improvised towel. The bloomer's she retained were molded to her bottom as if painted on, the material almost non-existent in its wet state, revealing far more than the wearer realised in the flickering light of the flames.

Forcing himself to relax and sit back down, Peter felt the twig snap between his fingers. "Are you alright?"

"Y-y-es...I just slipped."

"The birds are almost done." Peter croaked, finding it difficult to breath. Wendy only managed a nod, one hand resting on the rim of the bath as she steadied herself before lifting out her other foot and straightening up, her back still to Peter.

"I'll...just get...dressed." Wendy managed to mumble before pushing her way through the improvised curtain and out of his sight.

Collapsing back on the wooden floor, Peter hung his head and tried to still his hectic heartbeat. At this rate she was going to kill him stone dead before the morning.

Smelling burning, he singed his fingers removing the spit and getting the birds off the hot skewer and on to the plates. Keeping himself from thinking of the girl behind the curtain, he fussed over the fruit, sharing it between two plates to put beside the roasted birds. Ignoring the rustling sounds across the room, he fetched the plate of meat slices and threaded them onto the spit, positioning it a little higher so the meat would cook but not burn. Just as he got it balanced, Wendy appeared from behind the curtain and sat down beside the plate he'd filled for her. She wouldn't look at him, preferring to fiddle with the long braid now hanging down her back, the end tied with a faded ribbon. The copper colored dress was creased, the lace over skirt a trifle moth eaten, but Peter thought she looked lovely, her skin glowing above the low neckline as she finished tying up her hair.

Only then did she look up.

For a long moment they just looked at each other, the flickering light of the fire creating shadows and hollows, gilding their outlines.

Wendy thought Peter had never looked so handsome, his youthful features showing the planes and angles of maturity to come, his cheeks darkened with the shadow of stubble, his eyes, rimmed with dark lashes, devouring her like a starving man. Her own wandered over the shirt that hung a little loosely on his frame, the neck lacings untied, exposing an expanse of smooth skin, the sleeves rolled up over his forearms, exposing the golden down that covered the steel muscles beneath. The strong column of his neck rose above the white ruffles of the shirt, a pulse beating strongly at the base, her eyes straying up to where his hair still curled damply against his nape and behind his ears.

Peter was taking his own inventory, from the dark sweep of her brows down her straight nose to her full, red lips and the dimple barely visible in the uncertain light.

This time is was the scream of a creature caught in the jaws of a predator that broke the moment, the sound making Wendy put a hand to her throat and look out at the darkness beyond the doorway.

Peter cleared his throat and shifted, "There's nothing out there you need to fear...nothing will bother us in here."

Wendy turned her head to face him and picked up her plate.

"Are there no wild animals on Neverland? I thought you had bears and tigers and lions running loose everywhere."

Grasping the lifeline like a drowning man, Peter followed Wendy's lead and embarked on a story about a giant bear that used to roam the woods until it met it's match in Peter Pan.

As the tension dissipated, Peter and Wendy ate their roast fowl, following it up with the slices of grilled venison, washed down with mugs of ice cold water and finished with the fresh fruit. All through the meal they kept the conversation light and amusing, Wendy's peals of laughter accompanied by Peter's deeper tones as they swapped silly stories and tall tales.

At last Wendy could keep the yawns away no longer, her hand coming up with monotonous regularity as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

"I'm sorry Peter...but I'm for bed," she yawned expansively, Peter grinning as she tried to hide it behind her hand.

"I'm sure you have that sorted as you did everything else."

"Are you saying I'm a managing female?" Wendy retorted archly, rising to her feet and brushing down her skirts before walking around the fire.

"No...never that." Peter quipped, his eyes twinkling down at her as he joined her on the other side of the fire.

"I should think not," said Wendy, the dimple showing before she swept past him and headed for the pile of clothes that were to be their couch for the night. "Do you think we should move this closer to the fire?"

"Only if you want to end up a pile of cinders in the morning."

"Oh." Wendy rubbed her arms and stood uncertainly beside the makeshift bed. "I thought it might be cold, so I didn't make two separate beds." She explained, "I assumed...that is, I thought...we could...share."

Keeping her eyes on the motley assortment of clothes, she missed the tender glance sent her way before Peter cleared his throat and spoke again.

"An excellent idea...and very practical. I'll clear away the remains of the...er...bath and you get yourself settled. I'll need to bank the fire and...suchlike...so don't wait for me."

Not giving her a chance to protest, Peter backed away and busied himself with the buckets of water.

"Don't you want me to help?"

Peter waved her away, carrying two full buckets to the door and flinging the contents out. "No...leave this to me."

Both disappointment and relief warred within her before she chided herself for being a ninny and turned back to the bed.

"If he wants to wear himself out, then let him." She muttered, kneeling on the strange bed and pummelling an old coat into the semblance of a pillow. Satisfied, she pulled off her shoes and placed them neatly beside the mattress of clothes before arranging her skirts to cover her feet and laying down, her back to the fire. She could hear the slop of the water in the buckets and the pad of Peter's bare feet against the wooden floor as he emptied the bath. With the tub upended, he turned his attention to the fire and the remains of their meal, the plates clacking together in a muted way as he placed one over the other to contain the cooked meat for the morning. As she lay there, she stared at the distant shadows of more benches and table against the far wall while Peter moved quietly around the room, the crackle of flames telling her he was banking the fire before leaving it to burn down for the night. After a while her shoulders relaxed and she felt her eyes drooping closed, the distant hoot of an owl lulling her into a doze.

What seemed like only seconds later she awoke to feel the press of warm lips against her cheek. Her gasp of awareness made the figure bending over her freeze.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." Peter whispered, the darker shadow of his body only faintly rimmed by the dying light of the fire.

"I must have dozed off...are you coming to bed?"

Her artless enquiry made his heart start to hammer as she gazed up at him, her lids half lowered as she fought the drag of sleep.

Ignoring the thrumming of his blood, Peter carefully lay down beside her, his body not touching hers as he shifted to get comfortable on the lumpy clothes.

"Are you warm enough?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I thought I was, but now..." Her sleepy voice trailed off and Peter reached out a hand to smooth over the rounded skin on her exposed shoulder.

"Scoot back and I'll keep you warm." He ordered, applying pressure to her skin. Wendy instantly complied, her back coming into contact with his front, her knees drawing up as he folded himself around her, her bottom snug against his hips. "Lift your head." He whispered and she did as he asked, his arm providing a pillow, the other draping over her waist with a warm possessiveness that made her tremble.

"You are cold...you're shaking." He breathed against her nape.

"I'm not really cold...it's just..." She felt his lips press against the back of her neck, their dry warmth sending up flares in her belly and firing tingles down all her limbs. "Wh-at are you doing?"

"Kissing you goodnight."

His lips were now on her ear, nibbling the tender flesh around the rim and nuzzling the sensitive skin behind. Wendy moaned softly.

Her arm had been laying against her side, parallel with his. Now her hand curled around his arm and squeezed, his muscles tensing beneath her fingers in response to her touch.

"This isn't like any kissing goodnight I've ever had before." She protested weakly, arching her neck as he progressed in small kisses down her neck to the join with her shoulder.

"This is how we kiss goodnight in Neverland." Pete whispered, intoxicated with the feel of her smooth flesh against his mouth and the smell of her skin, a hint of lilac still lingering despite the bath.

Moving back, he gently pulled Wendy around so that she lay on her back, his lips tracing the line of her jaw, heading inevitably towards her mouth.

"If this...is how...you kiss goodnight," Wendy breathed, the blood singing in her ears. "How does anyone ever...oh God...get to sleep..."

Finally reaching his goal, Peter sealed her lips with his own, her mouth fusing with his as she arched against him, drinking greedily of his kisses, giving as passionately as she received, her faint mews of disappointment whenever they briefly parted bringing him swiftly back to duel with her once more. Tongues danced over each other, exploring and retreating, moans quickly swallowed by greedy lips as the kiss deepened and changed from sweet to essential, arms and hands stroking the flames that had been dormant all through the long evening.

Wendy felt, through a haze of sensation, Peter's fingers tugging at the ribbon binding her braid, his nimble digits releasing her hair and spreading it out before burrowing against her head to angle her mouth for a closer contact, if such a thing was humanely possible. She was sure she was drowning, and Peter was her air, his touch a living flame that would surely burn her to ashes if she didn't have more. She felt like a mad woman, her body a torch only waiting for him to ignite it, her own hands busy stroking him anywhere she could reach, his clothes a barrier that she wanted gone so she could drown in his flesh and get as close as possible, absorb him into herself until there was nothing but one entity, an amalgam of the heat and force driving them onwards.

Mewing a protest, she pulled and tugged at the shirt preventing her from reaching his skin, Peter lifting himself to give her leave to rip the shirt from his back. Not quite achieving that result, she nonetheless managed to get it over his head and tossed off to the side, her fingers instantly melding to his skin, spreading and kneading the silky expanse as Peter groaned his appreciation against her neck. Emboldened by the feel of his heated flesh, Wendy struggled to release herself from her constricting dress, her contortions brought to an abrupt end as the aged fabric ripped with the force of Peter's grip, the material giving up the unequal task of covering her quivering body. Feeling her torso bared to the night air, she almost cried out, gasping as Peter trailed his mouth down her chest and between her breasts, his hands molding her like clay as his mouth found and latched on to one swollen peak, her spine arching off the mattress to press it further into the heat of his mouth.

Where ever he touched her, heat bloomed and spread, warming her as no fire could ever do, her lungs heaving to drag in more air until she felt dizzy. Feverishly she wrapped her fingers about his head and dragged his mouth from her breast and back to her mouth, the hard wall of his chest crushing her tender flesh, the hard nubs of her nipples unbearably sensitive against his satiny skin.

Peter felt as if he was drowning, Wendy his lifeline, her lips his salvation as he feasted on her mouth, his hands stoking over the softness of her flesh, her skirts hampering his exploration of the rest of her body. Nibbling at her lips, he managed to articulate a word before ravishing her face. "Clothes."

Moaning a protest when his lips left hers, Wendy trailed a hand down his back and stopped at the waistband of his trousers, a fingertip slipping beneath the material and running along the edge making Peter groan against her cheek as the teasing finger slid around his side and drifted over his belly as he raised himself up. Sucking in a breath as his flesh jerked in reaction, Peter grabbed her wandering hand and held it, his breath hissing between his teeth.

Wendy gazed up at him languidly, a smile curving her lips. "Too many clothes." She purred, her hand slipping from his grasp to flatten against the wall of his chest, idly toying with the hard nubbin beneath her palm.

Lifting himself away from her, Peter straddled her body, his fingers fumbling with the buttons securing his breeches, his eyes never leaving hers as each fastening was released. Wendy watched him with her heart in her eyes, her breasts rising and falling with the force of her breathing, her lips parted as he rose to his feet and slowly, insolently peeled away his trousers, leaving him in a state she was becoming increasingly familiar with. With the faint glow of the fire highlighting the planes and hollows of his body, Peter knelt down beside her. Gently he gripped the remains of her bodice and, while Wendy willingly lifted her hips, slid the rest of her dress from her body and down her legs to be discarded into the shadows.

Suddenly shy under his scrutiny, Wendy tried to cover herself but his hands were quicker, imprisoning her wrists on either side of her head to keep her from moving, his eyes hidden in the shadows of his face as he stared down at her.

"You are truly the most beautiful of creatures." He breathed, leaning over her to press a kiss against the palm of one upturned hand.

"Oh Peter," Wendy sighed.

"And now I know that you love me, without a doubt," he continued, his hands stroking down her arms and over her ribs, his thumbs caressing over her breasts.

"Oh you do, do you...and how do you know this?" Wendy asked dreamily as Peter lay down beside her, his leg thrown over hers, nudging them apart with insolent ease.

"Because this tells me so," He kissed her slowly, lingeringly. "And this tells me," his head bent as he latched on to a nipple and tugged the hard flesh, "and this..." one wandering hand glided down to the apex of her thighs, caressing between her legs making her writhe against him as he tested her readiness.

Not entirely ready to leave the field open to his easy conquest, Wendy closed her legs on his hand, trapping him there, her own fingers busy finding the source of his passion, curling around its hardness as he bucked against her hand, his teeth clenched against the exquisite feeling of her touch on his heated flesh.

"And what of you?" Wendy whispered, her grip on his manhood wringing low groans from her lover as she stroked him from base to tip, his frame shuddering above her as he fought for control. "Do you love me Peter? Will you say the words, say what we mean to each other...what we've always meant to each other...even as children in paradise?"

"This is paradise," Peter gasped, his heart hammering in his chest as Wendy gripped him more surely, her confidence rising with each moan wrung from his laboring lungs.

"Do you love me Peter?"

Panting, Peter lowered his head and kissed her sweetly. "More than I ever imagined possible."

Releasing her grip on his body, Wendy threw her arms about his neck and pulled him in for a toe curling kiss, her legs parting to give him free rein with her most intimate secrets, her hips lifting to press herself more fully against him as he moved to cover her with his body.

While he pressed ardent kisses over her face, each caress greeted with helpless sighs and blood stirring growls, his body begged entrance to hers, her thighs cradling his hips as he pressed forward. Feeling him enter her body, Wendy became a creature of fire, her skin tingling all over, her liquid center welcoming his hardness, absorbing him into her body as readily as the air into her lungs. With her legs wrapped around his hips, she urged him onwards, her cry of pain smothered against his mouth as he completed a journey that had seemed inevitable from the first moment he'd seen her. With his body tightly seated inside her, Peter paused, lifting his head to stare down at his love, her head thrown back, her hands spread over his shoulders as she accustomed herself to their joining.

"I do love you," he whispered against her shoulder, his heart galloping while he fought the urge to thrust, his body quivering with the force of the battle.

"I've always loved you...since the moment I saw you floating above my bed like some angel come to guard me in my sleep...Oh please, I am dying..." Squeezing her legs, Wendy begged him with her body to bring them release from the fire burning within.

Bracing himself, Peter withdrew from her body before plunging back in, a groan from him echoed by Wendy as he repeated the move, her flesh melded with his in a breathtaking union. Wendy's focus was all on their intimate connection, her body responding eagerly, seeming to expand and fill every thought as she shuddered and writhed against Peter's straining muscles, his back rippling under her palms as he moved inside her. Something was building inside her, straining to be released, her movements becoming frantic as she strived to reach her peak, the final explosion tossing her up into the void, her nails digging into Peter's back as she stiffened then quivered, gasping against his mouth.

"OH!...Oh my...Peter!" Hearing her cry out and her body dissolve around him, Peter felt his own climax bearing down on him, his movements becoming stronger and less coordinated as he followed her over the edge, releasing his control and letting his body have its finish, expelling himself in her pulsating heat, her name leaving his lips on a long, drawn out moan.

Coming back to her senses, Wendy pulled her lover closer, her muscles protesting as she wrapped herself around him, his head seated heavily against her shoulder, his chest crushing her breasts, his weight a welcome blanket against the cool night air finally making its presence felt after the incandescence of passion waned.

His heart still hammering, Peter raised his lead weighted head and gazed down at Wendy, her heavy lidded eyes roving over his face as a smile lifted her lips in a sweet smile full of love and promise.

"I never imagined it would be anything like that." Said Peter, dropping a warm kiss on the tip of her nose.

"I never imagined it would be you." Wendy replied carelessly, her eyes closing as sleep tugged at her in the aftermath of their loving.

She didn't see the faint frown her artless comment drew between Peter's brows, the light in his eyes dying a little.

"Who did you think it would be?" Peter asked, his voice roughened with emotion.

"What?" Wendy asked faintly, already slipping the shackles of the conscious realm.

"Who did you think it would be?" This time the question was voiced in a tone not to be ignored. Dragging herself up from the depths of sleep, Wendy stared, blinking up at Peter who had pulled back, his eyes glittering strangely.

"Who?"

"Who were you expecting to be your lover...if not me, then who?"

Surprised at the anger in his voice, Wendy frowned, her brain still fuzzy from the aftermath of their lovemaking.

"My husband...I suppose." Wendy replied frankly, still puzzling over his aggrieved tone.

"And did you have someone in mind?"

"What are you talking about?"

"This husband...is there another man who has a claim on you?"

"Peter...what is this? I love you...there is no-one else, has never been anyone else!"

"You have that right!...There will never be anyone else...what I have I hold...remember that!" Not giving her a chance to reply, Peter smothered her parted lips with his own and kissed her savagely, his previously lax body surging into hardness again, her own defenses brushed aside by the force of his possession. Wendy didn't fight against the tide of his body's demands, her own rising swiftly to meet him as they raced to a heady and violent completion. Shuddering in his release, Peter collapsed spent upon her breast, his harsh breathing fanning her skin with flames as she stroked his damp curls and murmured soothing words to calm his torrid emotions.

"I'm sorry...did I hurt you?" His mumbled apology against her breast made her smile.

"You didn't hurt me Peter...and you have nothing to be jealous of, there was no-one I cared for, no man came close to making me feel the way you do."

Feeling his tense muscles relax, Wendy cuddled him closer, smiling as she nuzzled the curls tickling her chin.

Peter sighed gustily, his body demanding sleep even as he wished the night to never end. Rolling to the side, he gathered Wendy against his chest, her legs laying over his, her arms curled around his waist as she snuggled beside him. Wrapped in a heady cocoon of requited love and satiated with passion, Peter and Wendy slipped easily into sleep, the fire's glow dying as the night shrouded the room and its occupants in darkness.

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TBC...


	10. Keeping Hold

27/09/05 

Title: To Have & To Hold

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Ten - Keeping Hold.

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Morning brought with it not only the bright sun and shrill trill of birds, but also a cold dose of reality for Wendy.

She awoke cold, stiff and sore, the bed empty of Peter and her body rebelling from its unfamiliar use. Muscles she didn't know she possessed reminded her of the long day she'd had, all the hard work of collecting wood, dragging the bath, hoisting the armfuls of clothes, left her with arms that now felt leaden. Her body, so incandescent the night before, now felt as if she'd been worked over by a kindly pugilist, purple smudged bruises visible on her arms and thighs, her breasts tender to the touch, the nipples sore from Peter's forceful suckling. At her core she felt a throbbing ache, her gentle exploratory touch making her wince as the swollen flesh repelled even the lightest foray. Gingerly she sat up, moving slowly as her muscles protested the rash move, her breath hissing between her teeth as she tentatively stretched.

Dragging over the remains of her dress, Wendy held it to her front, partially to keep herself warm, but also to redress her feelings of exposure. Belatedly she looked back on what she'd done with Peter and wondered if she'd really been the wild wanton of the night before. It had gone against everything she'd ever been taught by her mother and her aunt, her behavior enough to put her beyond the bounds of polite society, almost to the fringe of the demi-rep with her immodesty. Sighing, she tried and failed to justify her acceptance of Peter's lovemaking by telling herself they were in love, that they were destined to be together. It did little to ameliorate the fact that she had lost her prized virginity to a boy she still hardly knew, who professed to love her, possibly only in the hope that his declaration would make her capitulate all the more readily.

In that he'd been all too successful, her aching body testament to how thoroughly he'd claimed her for his own. She wanted to believe he loved her, that he wanted to be with only her for the rest of their lives, but romantic dreams didn't hold up too well in the bright light of the morning, especially when the person who professed to love her so well was not even in the bed beside her.

Feeling depressed and a little resentful that Peter couldn't have stayed until she awoke, Wendy wrapped the remains of her dress about her torso and padded across the floor to find herself something to wear. Finding a faded blue dress that looked a little less worn and dirty than the others, she gave it a thorough shaking to rid it of the ever present dust, before dropping her rags and pulling the replacement over her head. Decently covered once more, she found her shoes and slipped them on, all the time darting glances over to the gaping doorway, hoping that Peter would be walking through it before too long. On a small table she'd dumped a variety of items she rummaged from the dress-up cupboard, including a silver backed brush set which she now employed to tidy her tangled mane.

Cursing herself for sleeping with damp hair, Wendy attacked the knots with unrestrained ferocity, the snagging of the brush bringing tears to her eyes which she welcomed, the pain of her ordeal fueling her anger and burning away the shame of her perceived wanton behavior.

As the day brightened, she worked diligently until every last tangle was fought over and despatched, her hair finally hanging down her back in a glorious cascade, gold glints visible within the honey brown strands, the ends curling up slightly when she finally laid down the brush.

Feeling a lot calmer after performing what was, for her, a daily ritual, Wendy walked over to the door and gazed out over the meadow of weeds and grass, the sun making everything particularly bright and cheery, quite contrary to her mood. As she stood in the sunlight she heard someone whistling, her attention drawn to the gate, Peter appearing through the gap with a net slung over his shoulder and a bunch of flowers clasped in his free hand. The sun glinted off his hair and flashed off his teeth as he walked through the weeds towards her, Wendy's heart lifting despite her internal scolding to not be such a push over next time.

"I wanted to surprise you...have you been awake very long?" His husky voice rolled over her and made her shiver with anticipation, all her uncertainties fading like mist before the sun as he held out the bunch of dewy flowers for her to take delight in.

"Not long...I was surprise to find you gone."

Lowering the net to the ground he waved a hand. "I got breakfast, although the sun says it's almost lunchtime."

As she lifted her face from the fragrant flowers to gauge the time herself, Peter stepped forward and swooped on her mouth, sealing it with his own and making her weak kneed with a devastating kiss. His arms wrapped around her and pressed her close, molding her body against his and making her fully aware of his aroused state. For a few blissful minutes she allowed him to ravage her, as aroused herself despite her earlier misgivings, but when she felt his hand stroke down and cup her bottom she tore her mouth from his and placed her hands on his chest to push him away.

"Peter...stop...not here."

Chuckling at her protestation, Peter tried to kiss her again only to have the flowers shoved in his face so that he got a mouthful of petals instead of her lips. "I said stop!" Wendy cried out, finding his arms suddenly lax and, taking advantage, stepping away from his all too seductive allure. Belatedly Peter realised that Wendy was not laughing or smiling at him, her expression almost angry as she turned and hurried back into the hut leaving him standing outside.

Puzzled, he picked up the net with its burden of fruit and sauntered into the shadowed room, his eyes blinking rapidly after the brightness of the morning sun. Wendy had gone to stand by the fire, staring down at the cold ashes as if willing them to spring to life again. Peter dumped the net on one of the tables and slowly approached her, her tense shoulders informing him that something was wrong.

"What is it? Why are you cross? Did I do something wrong?"

"Yes...No...I just wanted you to stop what you were doing?"

"Kissing you?"

"Making love to me!"

Peter smiled smugly to himself, stepping forward and placing his hands on her stiff shoulders, pulling her back against his chest. "I thought I was just giving you a good morning kiss...after last night..."

"And that's another thing..." Wendy pulled away from him and whirled around, her eyes sparking. "Peter...about last night..." Wendy pressed her lips together, not at all sure how to continue.

"Did I tell you that you're beautiful when you're angry?"

Taking her silence as an encouragement, Peter leant forward and gently placed a kiss on the corner of her mouth, her eyes closing as he then pressed a succession of kisses over every inch of her lips finishing with a feather light kiss on her cheek. During his teasing salute, he'd only touched her with his lips, his hands clasped behind his back.

When he pulled away Wendy followed, swaying towards him like a flower seeking the sun. Peter grinned briefly before leaning forward again and gathering her against his chest, his mouth covering hers and drinking deeply, Wendy's arms wrapping around his neck as the kiss took on a life of its own. Swept away on a tide of sensation, Wendy hardly noticed when Peter scooped her into his arms and carried her over to the makeshift bed, lowering them both to the old clothes. It was only when his warm, calloused hand started to lift her shirt and slide up her leg that Wendy started to struggle, tearing her mouth away and pushing at him.

"Stop Peter...stop it!"

Surprised at the vehemence of her voice, Peter reared back in shock.

"Wendy?"

Taking advantage, Wendy shoved him to the side and rolled away, coming to rest on her knees beside the mattress, her hair falling forward like a cloak.

"I'm sorry...but we can't do that anymore." Wendy gasped, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

"Why not?"

Watching him warily, Wendy sat back on her heels and smoothed her skirt, her fingers plucking at the wrinkles.

"We just can't...we shouldn't have done...what we did, last night either."

Peter lay on his side, propped up on an elbow and regarded her with a half smirk and a raised eyebrow. "But we did...and we have and I was hoping we could do it again."

"Well not with me!" Wendy replied heatedly, her face flushing.

This time Peter raised both eyebrows.

"I wasn't aware there was anyone else...what's happened to make you so cross?"

"I just...I think...I don't know where we go from here." Lowering her lashes, Wendy stared miserably down at her hands.

"I don't understand...don't you love me anymore?"

"I-I think I do...but sometimes..." Wendy paused, biting her lip to give her courage. "Sometimes...love isn't enough."

"Enough for what? I love you, you love me...what more is there?"

"I don't know...we haven't considered what might happen."

"Happen?"

"I was a virgin Peter...I could be pregnant from last night!"

Peter stared at her, not understanding.

"Pregnant?"

"Yes Peter...I-I could be having...your..our baby."

So intent on her fingers, Wendy didn't see the range of emotions that crossed Peter's face as he considered the prospect of becoming a father. At first he'd been shocked, not remotely prepared for the conversation Wendy seemed determined to thrash out, then perplexed at her apparent anger, not understanding her fears. Now he considered the possibility that their union the night before could produce another life, a combination of Wendy's beauty and his exuberance. It made his head reel, his body still aching to take her soft body and cover it with his own.

"Why is that so bad?" He finally asked.

Wendy's head shot up and she stared at Peter in surprise.

"You wouldn't mind?"

Peter shrugged, smiling at her worried expression. "Why should I? It would be as beautiful as you and as clever as me."

"But...but...you wouldn't mind being a father?"

"Not if you're going to be the mother."

"Oh."

Feeling her eyes prickling, Wendy buried her face in her hands, too overwrought to stifle the urge to cry. Before the first sob had broken past her lips, Peter had enfolded her in his arms, her head drawn down to his shoulder. "Don't cry Wendy...I don't know what's upset you, but I'll try and put it right."

His loving words only increased the flow of tears, Wendy's body shaking with the force of her sobs, her hands clutching at his shirt as he rubbed circles up and down her back, murmuring nonsense to try and calm her. "I really don't mind if you have a baby...and...I suppose if it means we can't do what we did last night because of what we did last night...I won't mind all that much, as long as I can kiss you now and then and hold you...if it won't upset you." Instead of soothing her, his words seemed to make her cry harder still, his expression changing from concern to outright worry when Wendy showed no signs of stopping her weeping. "Please stop crying Wendy, I won't bring you any more silly flowers if you don't want me to...I thought they'd make you smile..and I promise not to peek next time you take a bath...even if I thought you looked lovely, like a mermaid but more so..."

He continued to whisper more promises and vows in a vain hope that she would hear him, but Wendy seemed oblivious, his shirt becoming damp with the tears flowing unceasingly from her eyes. After several long minutes and no sign of a halt, Peter started to become worried for her health. "You'll cry yourself into a decline if you don't stop...please Wendy." Pressing his lips to her hair, Peter rocked them both, Wendy's sobs turning to hiccups as she eased against him, her tears finally ceasing as she regained control of her erratic breathing, her head turned into his shoulder. Feeling her relax against him, Peter loosened his hold and gently put her away, his finger lifting her chin to peer at her tear stained cheeks and swollen eyes.

"Tell me what's wrong...I didn't mean to make you cry."

"You-you-you...didn't exactly...it-it-it was just...you weren't th-ere wh-en I woke up and...and I thought that you-you said you loved me...just so you-you could do wh-at we did la-last night." Her speech done, Wendy blushed brightly and buried her face once more in her hands.

Peter pursed his lips in exasperation, his mouth twitching as he tried to prise Wendy's fingers away from her burning face.

"I said I loved you...because I love you." He stated simply, holding her fingers within his own to keep them still.

Sniffing, Wendy raised her eyes and peered at him uncertainly.

"You do?"

Smiling crookedly, Peter nodded, dipping his head so that his eyes could meet hers, their candid expression allaying many of her fears. Wendy felt her heart start to beat again as she read the truth in his steady gaze.

"I'm sorry I doubted you," she whispered, "I love you to."

"Good." Peter couldn't keep the grin from his mouth any longer. Wendy saw it and couldn't help a frown drawing her brows together.

"Are you laughing at me?"

The grin still in place, Peter shook his head, his eyes twinkling. "I wouldn't dare...you might start crying again, and I couldn't bear it."

"Oh you're teasing me, you wretch." Unable to stop her lips parting in an answering grin, Wendy felt the tension leech from her body, her hands still held in Peter's, his thumbs stroking over her wrists in a soothing motion.

They sat like that for several minutes, Wendy's slightly uneven breathing settling down the calmer she became, until she gave a final shuddering sigh and a loud sniff. "Peter?"

"Yes?"

"I think I'd like some breakfast now."

As if to punctuate her request, her stomach growled making her blush again and Peter to chuckle softly.

"That sounds like a very good idea. Here, take my hand."

Together they rose to their feet and walked over to the table where Peter had dumped the net holding the fruit he'd picked. While he sorted their breakfast, Wendy picked up a small bucket and went to fill it, glad to have the opportunity to wash her face and hands, her eyes feeling gritty and swollen from her crying.

Sniffing she tried to sort out her confused emotions, the release of tension had given her some clarity regarding the welter of feelings between herself and Peter, but she still felt uneasy about what they'd done and the possible, and quite probable outcome if they continued doing it. At nearly nineteen, Wendy fell ill-equipped to face the possibility of having a child, let alone a child to a magical boy who used to fly, on an island paradise with no apparent modern trappings of any sort. But on the other hand, why was she worrying herself needlessly? In the unlikely event that she had conceived from that one episode, couldn't she just return to her family? Of course, that would mean Peter returning with her as well, and were they any safer there than here even then? Considering what had happened with the book and the person Peter called the Keeper, would they not follow them back to London? Combine all that with the riddle from the book and the talk of prophecy, it fair made a girls' head whirl.

Splashing her face again, Wendy decided to face one problem at a time, her stomach reminding her that it had first call on her immediate attention.

Refilling the bucket, she carried it back to the cabin and set it on the table beside the plates Peter had heaped with their food, the bedraggled flowers filling a battered mug in the center.

Peter regarded her with an enquiring look, his eyes tracing over her features as if to reassure himself she was alright. Wendy returned his scrutiny with a shy smile.

"I'm fine Peter...really I am. Now what did you find for us?"

The next half hour was spent sampling the many fruits he's found in the forest, the variety ranging from nuts and berry's to more exotic fruits with strange names and even stranger tastes to Wendy's London palette.

Once replete, Peter drew Wendy outside and cleared a patch of ground to draw a map.

"We're here, roughly speaking," he pointed to a cross surrounded by a circle to represent the fort, "and here is the volcano," he plonked down a cone shaped rock near to the circle. Next he drew a wriggly line, "this is Cannibal Creek and the Indian camp, it's not their main camp, that's over here on the shore, and here is the coastline and the Sisters." He drew all the main features before sitting back on his haunches and staring intently at the map, tipping his head to look at it from different angles and adjusting one or two lines before being satisfied.

"That's as close as I can make it...I don't know this area completely, having only flown over it, but I reckon that we need to go this way to reach the Indian's, then from there we can take a canoe down the creek to the sea to find the Nymph if she's up anchored to search for us."

"Is that likely?" Wendy asked, looking at the distance drawn in the dirt by Peter's stick with misgivings.

"If Hook is breathing down their necks, it's possible."

"But Peter...it looks so far."

"I know...but we can make it. And I might be able to shorten the trip if I can find..."

"A guide? You said something before about that." Wendy remarked.

"Yeah...a guide." Peter tapped the map with the end of his stick, a serious expression on his face.

"What would they do...if you found them?"

"Well...it's only a rumour, but it's always been known that there is a path through the mountain, under the volcano, which brings you out the other side and cuts two days off the trip around on foot, or so I've heard."

"But you don't know for sure?"

"That's why I'd need to find the guide."

"And are they only a rumour too?" Wendy's acerbic remark made Peter give her a lopsided grin.

"Kinda...it's told that an old hermit...actually an old pirate, took to the hills a long time ago and found the tunnel through the mountain while in search of a hidden treasure. If we can find the hermit, we find the tunnel."

"Oh...a hermit. I still think it would be a lot easier if we could just fly out of here." Wendy muttered, receiving a dark look from Peter.

"If I could, I would." He retorted crossly.

"Aren't there any fairies around here?"

"No."

"Oh."

They sat for a moment, pondering the map and the trek to come.

"How do we find this hermit?" Wendy asked finally.

"Well if what I saw this morning it correct...he's already found us."

"He's found us? What did you see?"

"Evidence that there's someone else hunting in the immediate area around the fort."

Wendy stared at him mutely. Using his fingers Peter wiped out the map, dusting his hand off on his breeches before rising up and flinging the stick away.

"So what do you want to do...do we stay here? Or find this Hermit?" Wendy asked, accepting his hand to help her rise.

"I think we should start to prepare to leave, but wait another day and leave tomorrow. By then, whoever is out there will either make themselves known before we leave, or we'll meet them on the trail."

"Which would you prefer?" Wendy asked, rubbing her arms from a sudden chill that chased over her skin.

"Doesn't matter...it'll be up to them to decided."

For the rest of the day they worked together to fashion ways and means of carrying necessary supplies with them for the trek back to Cannibal Creek. Peter was going to carry their food supply, a net lined with a voluminous cambric petticoat and tied with rope making a secure back pack while he used a leather belt to hold a variety of weapons and tools across his chest and around his hips. None of the swords in the armory were fit to use, being rusted beyond help, but he had found a number of knifes stored within oil soaked wrappings that had remained sharp with blades bright as new. Wendy had managed to salvage a variety of clothing to give both Peter and herself a change of clothes, as well as footwear for the journey. She also managed to find several lengths of not-too-badly moth-eaten blanketing fabric at the back of the cupboard which would serve as bedding for them. These lengths were rolled or folded as small as possible and packed into another makeshift pack that Wendy would carry, along with a couple of buckets to heat food over a fire or carry water with. When it was all hoisted onto her shoulders to adjust the ropes and padding needed to stop them chafing, the hanging buckets made such a noise she suggested she take up a career as a one-man-band, needing only a drum at her side and cymbals on her knees.

Their traveling supplies wrapped, packed and sorted, Peter and Wendy spread out several jackets and coats on top of the long weeds and created a cleared area to have a later afternoon picnic. The sun poured into the compound despite the towering trees surrounding the fort, warming the ground and making everything drowsy with heat. Wendy lay back on the mat of clothes and stared up at the clouds scudding overhead, an apple in her hand which she nibbled lazily. Peter lay on his side beside her, his head resting on his hand as he chewed a thick stem of grass, the fat seed head waggling up and down as he worked it between his teeth.

"If this hermit doesn't decide to make an appearance, how long will it take to go around the volcano?"

"Four days...possibly five."

"And if you didn't have me to slow you down?"

"You won't slow us down."

"You didn't answer my question...how long would it take if I wasn't here."

"I don't know." Peter replied evasively.

"I think you do."

"Well, even if I did, it's a stupid question because I'm not leaving you behind."

"It would mean you'd reach the Nymph more quickly and then you could send back a rescue party to collect me."

"No...No...and No!" Peter almost shouted at her, scowling furiously.

"It was only a suggestion." Wendy murmured, secretly pleased that he didn't resent having her along. Feeling tired, Wendy closed her eyes and let the warmth of the sun carry off into a light sleep, the sound of the insects chirruping, and the bees buzzing soothing her. Peter gazed down at her as she slept and wondered if his plan to get them back to the safety of the Nymph was going to succeed. Keeping his misgivings about their journey was becoming harder and harder for him to conceal, his worries about Wendy's ability to cope with the arduous trek ahead of them almost causing him to abandon the idea and wait out a rescue by the crew of the Nymph at the fort. But he also knew that Hook was out there, and if he knew his enemy's tactics, the wily pirate was already stalking the Nymph, both at sea and on land, awaiting his chance to ambush and take either Wendy or the Oracle or both if given half a chance. With what he knew about the Keeper, on top of everything else, he didn't think that entity was going to sit back tamely and let Peter throw away the opportunity to become Ruler of Neverland, not if the creature could manipulate the current vulnerability at all to its ultimate goal. Having Peter and Wendy cut off from their loyal crew and the shelter of the Nymph placed them in a serious situation if Hook got wind of it, so Peter was prepared to give up their present, relatively comfortably bolt hole in exchange for keeping one step ahead of their enemy, be they mortal or immortal.

Yawning widely, Peter let his eyes droop shut, the sun and drone of insects lulling him into a light doze, the soft brush of the breeze bringing the scent of flowers as he slipped into sleep.

From his perch up high in the fork of a tree, the hermit looked down on the week choked compound and watched the young couple laid down among the weeds. He'd smelt the smoke of their fire the night before, the allure of human company too rare to pass up. He had watched the young man hunt in the forest the evening before and envied the fresh meat cooked over the open flame. Still ensconced in his arboreal roost, he'd watched the same young man return with a net full of fruit and an incongruous bunch of flowers, the young couples reunion obviously not going as expected until they disappeared indoors, removing them from the hermit's sight. Later he watched as the girl approached the half-hidden well and filled her bucket, splashing her face and staring down into the water, lost in thought. As the day progressed he shifted his cramp limbs at regular intervals, entertained by the comings and goings below and now watched as the young people appeared to sleep on a collection of old clothes. Gathering his tattered cloak about his shoulders, he carefully descended the tree, his gnarled hands finding the familiar knots and branches as easily as he'd once climbed the rigging of the ships he'd crewed. Landing lightly on the leafy ground, he approached the vine covered walls of the old fort and ran his fingers over the wood, keeping contact with the wall as he walked carefully around the perimeter, approaching the sagging gate.

An alarm call from a bird made his freeze against the log wall, his cloak blending in with the shadows thrown by the trees, his eyes darting left and right in preparation for flight if need be. After long minutes the bird ceased its loud chirping and flew away, the hermit once more edging towards the opening to the fort. Treading lightly, he eased his way through the narrow gap and slunk against the interior palisade, the rank weeds hiding the young people from his immediate view. Slowly he made his way around the perimeter, drawing ever closer, his bare feet silent against the dusty ground, his cloak whispering against the weeds like a breeze. He was close enough to see the dusky blue of the girls dress, her hair spread out like spun gold around her head, catching glints from the sun. Closer still he crept, parting the stalks of the grass with his fingers like an animal stalking its prey, his eyes fixed on the girl slumbering unaware only a few feet in front of him. Once he was close enough to see clearly, he paused, his teeth bared as he slowed his breathing, his eyes watching the rise and fall of her chest as she slept, his lips pulling into a grin of anticipation as he prepared to leap.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you."

As the voice froze his body, a blade pressed against his neck beneath the course hair, sliding over his skin like a deadly caress until it came to rest against his jugular, pricking the flesh to convey its intent.

"Now you wouldn't be wanting to harm me, young master, I be only a helpless old man come to see who trespasses in places long forgotten by Neverland."

"Old man maybe...helpless, I beg to differ. On your feet."

Responding to the press of the blade, the hermit rose unsteadily to his feet, his hands held up in surrender as the owner of the blade drew it around the old man's neck as he turned to face his attacker.

Peter held his blade to the man's throat while he assessed whether it was safe to release him. The hermit, for what was who Peter suspected him to be, was a scrawny specimen under his enveloping cloak of rags, the old man's hair quite as grey as the long beard covering his lower face. Only the eyes belied the frail posture, their boot black glitter keeping Peter on his guard as he surveyed their supposed guide.

"Peter?" Wendy's questioning voice behind him didn't draw his attention from his prisoner, Peter keeping the blade under the man's chin.

"Our guide has decided to join us at last Wendy."

A rustle behind him warned him she was coming up beside him. "Don't come too close, I don't know yet if he's friend or foe."

"But he's only an old man Peter...surely.."

Swallowing, the hermit lifted his lips in a grisly parody of a smile, his toothless mouth. "Listen to the young lady, master, she has the right of it...I is only an old man..."

"...Once a pirate aboard the Jolly Roger, and just as treacherous as any of his breed." Peter finished, never taking his attention off from the Hermit.

"What is your name?" Wendy asked, darting a glance at Peter's profile before sending an encouraging smile the old man's way.

"Why I used to be called Black Hearted Bart, in my younger days you understand...but now I just call's meself Bart."

"Well Bart...don't be fooled by this young lady's gentle demeanor, I am Captain Pan of the Nymph, and..."

"Captain Pan? Not Peter Pan?" Bart's body quivered and dropped him to his knees, his head bowing down at Peter's feet in abject obeyance. "Oh have pity on an old pirate, Master Pan...have pity!"

Peter looked taken aback at the man's groveling, his head turning to meet Wendy's gaze, her hand coming up to rest on his arm.

"We don't want to harm you Bart...quite the opposite," said Wendy, gesturing over the old man's head for Peter to put away his weapon.

Peter rolled his eyes and did as she silently asked before folding his arms over his chest and glaring down at the prostrate man on the ground.

Peter cleared his throat. "We need you to show us the way through the volcano...do you know it?"

"Oh yes Master...I knows it well, I can take you right through the heart and out the other side...just have pity on these old bones..."

Exasperated, Peter put a hand under the hermit's arm and yanked him back onto his feet. "Get up...I won't harm you."

"The sun's starting to go down Peter...should we make a start now, or wait until morning?" Wendy asked, glancing up at the sky.

"If we leave now, we'll have to camp in the forest." Peter explained, biting his lip.

"I can show Master Pan the best places to sleep...places Hook won't be able to find us in, that's for bloomin' sure."

"Hook! What do you know of Hook?"

"I knows that yours wasn't the only fire to draw old Bart to see who was invading his home."

"Hook's here?" Wendy gasped, her hand going to her throat.

"Near as within spittin' distance." Bart answered, his eyes assessing the glance exchanged between the two before resuming his obsequious stance.

"If he's close, we can't afford to spend another night here, I can't defend us if Hook corners us within these walls."

"Then let's go...right now." Wendy immediately turned away to hurry towards the cabin, her skirts held clear of the weeds. Peter turned back and gave the hermit a close look before fully sheathing his dagger and holding out his hand to the old man.

"Will you guide us to the hidden passage under the mountain?"

"That I will young master...you and your young lady, for sure I will." Spitting noisily, the hermit anointed his hand before holding it out for Peter to take. Peter did the same and the two shook hands, sealing the bargain.

"We weren't able to pack up all the food I'd gathered, do you want to add to your own supplies from our surplus?"

Receiving an eager nod in reply, Peter turned to lead the old man towards the cabin, the sun casting long shadows over the sun warmed weeds and hinting at the night to soon follow.

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TBC...


	11. Under The Mountain

2/10/05 

Title: To Have & To Hold

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Eleven - Under the mountain.

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They reached the base of the mountain before the sun dipped below the horizon. Bart had led them on a different route than the one they'd originally traveled, keeping away from anything that resembled a pathway, often forcing them to push their way through thick undergrowth. Wendy had managed her best to keep up but was heartily glad when Peter called a halt before it was fully dark, choosing a grassy glade beside a slow running stream as their campsite. Bart immediately set about building a fire by gathering rocks and dry brush from under the trees.  
Wendy gratefully dropped her pack from her aching shoulders, the straps leaving deep marks in the thick jacket she'd worn over her thin dress.

Peter wore a similar uniform jacket, the coat longer and more heavily frogged than Wendy's but with deep pockets that held a variety of useful items including her acorn pendant which they had both decided was best kept away from direct contact with either of them. Shucking the pack, he reached into one pocket and withdrew the tinderbox Wendy had used the night before, tossing it to Bart to use. While Bart fed the fire, Wendy filled the buckets with water, stopping briefly at the stream to ease off her shoes and soak her feet in the chill water, before returning to camp.

"Is it a good idea to have a fire if Hook is in the area?" Asked Wendy, placing the buckets beside the packs.

"'Ol Hook be too far away to see the light, and the smoke'll be dispersed by the trees, so don't worry your pretty head miss, we be fine where we are." Bart assured her, poking more sticks on the fire and sending sparks into the air. Wendy regarded him with a sceptical expression before turning away to sort out their sleeping blankets for the night. Peter had set up a makeshift spit and skewed slices of meat on each stick, the venison still fresh from the previous day.

"We'd better finish up this meat before it goes off," Peter explained to Wendy, Bart already licking his lips at the meat dripping over the flames. As they waited for their meal to cook, the sun faded from the sky and the stars appeared through the forest canopy, the settling calls of the daytime birds changing to the hooting cries of the night owls setting out to hunt in the dark. Wendy pulled the edges of her jacket together, huddling into its oversized sleeves as she watched the flames leap higher with each splatter of fat from the roasting venison. Peter sat beside her, cross legged, his eyes intent on their meal, his ears tuned to the sounds of the forest for any hint that all was not a calm as it appeared.

Beside him Wendy sighed and he turned his head to look at her. He'd been proud of her for not once complaining about the pace or the rough terrain they'd covered that afternoon. Even now she kept her feet hidden under her skirts, her knees drawn up as she stared into the flames.

"How are your feet?" Peter asked, noting her instant attempt to hide her feet from him even further under her skirts.

"Oh...er...they're fine...considering."

"Let me see." Peter demanded, holding out his hand.

"No. They're fine Peter, really, I won't slow you down..."

"I didn't suggest you would Wendy...now show me your feet!"

Glaring daggers at him, Wendy folded her skirt about her ankles and kept her feet tucked underneath, out of sight.

Heaving an aggrieved sigh, Peter shook his head at her stubbornness.

"You are a stubborn woman, Wendy Darling..." He leant towards her, "But I guess that's why I love you." Peter whispered, two seconds before lunging towards her and knocking her backwards. Briefly they tussled on the grass, Wendy's feet kicking themselves free of her skirts as Peter pinned her laughing to the ground.

"Pax Peter...let me go you oaf!" Wendy batted uselessly at Peter's arm as he pinned her down, his strength holding her easily.

"Then you should do as your told, like any good girl, and let your lord and master look at your feet." Raising an impudent eyebrow, Peter ignored Wendy's outraged gasp and flashing eyes and looked over his shoulder at her still kicking feet. "You little fool!" He exclaimed, releasing her suddenly to sit up and take her feet in his hands. Wendy yelped from the pain of even that gentle contact, her chest heaving as she panted to lessen the sting of the blisters as Peter inspected her injured feet.

"I-I-I can manage Peter...they're not that bad..." Her voice faded when Peter's head whipped around and he fixed her with an accusing frown.

"These are bad Wendy...you should have said something sooner, we didn't have to press on. I'll need to get something to dress those blisters," He placed her feet back on the soft grass and made to move, Wendy's lips parting to remonstrate. "And don't say one word, we'll have to hope they recover enough for us to carry on tomorrow." He shot back as he rose to his feet and stepped around the fire.

Wendy pressed her lips together and struggled to bite back the words just dying to be said, his high-handedness bringing out her martial spirit and making her want to fling his words back in his teeth even when he spoke the right of it, her feet quite swollen and painful despite her brave assertion to the contrary. "I so hate it when he's right!" She muttered, Bart hearing and looking up from his contemplation of the fire.

"Ah lass...should have said something. You don't want ta make the young master cross now do ya?"

Wendy bit her lip at the old man's admonishment, "I didn't want to hold us up and maybe allow Hook to get too close...I thought..."

"As if I'd let 'ol Hook get the better of me in these woods, the fairies themselves couldn't track me if I've a mind to be lost, no bejaybers, they couldn't."

Perplexed, Wendy took a second or two to figure out the old sailors quaint cant, but she understood his meaning. Peter returned with his hands full of strips of cloth and one of the buckets, setting them down beside Wendy.

"I'll soak these strips in the cold water and wrap them around your foot. It'll help to reduce the swelling and maybe take some of the sting out of the blisters. We'll replace them frequently to keep them as cold as possible and see how they are before we sleep tonight."

"I'm sorry Peter...I didn't mean to cause you trouble."

"I'm sorry we're not safe aboard the Nymph, if we were you wouldn't have to trek all over Neverland and rub your feet raw."

"And I'm right sorry to interrupt all this apologizing, but the meat's fair ready and my stomach is poor empty." Announced Bart.

Both Wendy and Peter chuckled at the old pirate. "You'd better start without us Bart...but make sure you don't eat the lot."

Bart adopted an aggrieved expression even as his fingers pulled out the first skewer with its steaming slice of meat attached. "As if I would think of doing such a thing...I never would."

Peter lifted one of Wendy's feet and quickly bound it loosely with the soaked bandages, the cold making her drew in her breath, but the relief also making her sigh as he placed it back on the ground before working on the other one.

"Better?"

"Oh much...I paddled in the stream a little when I filled the buckets, but I didn't want to linger in case you suspected. This feels better already...thank you."

Peter finished the second foot and set it down. "We'll change them shortly, after we've eaten."

Wendy nodded and sat with her legs outstretched, Peter handing her a leaf plate with a slice of well cooked meat laid on it, as well as several pieces of fruit and some nuts. Bart had contributed a handful of edible fungi to the feast and he fished them out of the ashes and handed them around.

The meal was subdued, each caught up in their own thoughts, the fire crackling and snapping and catching everyone's eye, sparks leaping up like sprites into the night air, the smoke spiraling through the overhanging branches and leaves, disappearing into the sky. While Bart finished off the scraps, Peter changed the bandages again, Wendy glad that the cold seemed to have numbed her feet to a certain degree, making it possible for her to walk, with Peter's aid, to find a measure of privacy among some bushes to take care of her needs. Peter waited for her to appear again and helped her hobble back to their sleeping mats. Wendy had placed their blankets side by side, near enough to benefit from the fire, but not close enough to scorch. Bart, his stomach full, was belching softly to himself, scratching at his rags before laying down with his feet almost in the ashes, his head pillowed on his arm.

"I hope he doesn't catch fire laying so close to the flames." Observed Wendy, her head pillowed on one of the packs as she pulled the blanket about her shoulders.

"I don't expect he will, and the fire will die down quickly...I keep watch just in case. Get some sleep, we'll be up at sunrise and there's a long way to go."

"I'm sorry I was so silly about my feet...thank you for taking care of them...and me."

Turning around from his contemplation of the dying fire, Peter lay on his side facing her, a foot of dirt separating their blankets which he easily reached across to tenderly stroked her cheek.

"I'm sure they'll be much better in the morning, so don't worry. I'll change them again before I turn in for the night, so don't be surprise if you feel me fiddling about down there." He accompanied his words with a waggle of his eyebrows that made Wendy smile, her eyes twinkling.

"Oh the cleverness of you."

"Don't I know it." Peter retorted and they both laughed.

They gazed at each other for a long moment, Peter's face in shadow while Wendy's was gilded by the light of the waning flames. Leaning across the gap, Peter pressed his lips to hers in a sweet kiss.

"Goodnight My Wendy."

"Your Wendy?"

"Always My Wendy." Peter nuzzled his nose against her cheek and she sighed, her eyes sliding shut as he pressed a kiss against each eyelid before withdrawing and sitting up. In the shadow cast by his body, Wendy snuggled further into her musty blanket and quickly slipped into sleep despite the hard ground and her sore feet. Beside her, Peter sat with his knees bent, his arms looped loosely around them as he stared beyond the glow of the fire and up at the looming bulk of the mountain towering over them above the trees. Tomorrow Bart had promised they'd reach the entrance to the tunnel through the mountain, the old pirate estimating that they would only take two days and a night to traverse the network of caves and subterranean chambers that formed the pathway through the mountain. Bart had also hinted that it was very easy to get lost down there without a reliable guide and Peter felt a twinge of unease at trusting not only his own life, but that of Wendy to the old man, but the alternative was taking the long route and chancing that they wouldn't encounter Hook who would quite possibly be taking the same path to reach Cannibal Creek and the Nymph.

A grunt drew his attention to the pirate across the fire from him, the old man rolling noisily onto his other side just as a glowing branch decided to split apart with a loud crack and send a shower of sparks out of the stones and onto the man's clothing. Smoke immediately starting to rise from the embers and Peter scrabbled to his feet, throwing dirt on the glowing sparks to put them out and stamping on those thrown out of the circle of rocks. Bart lifted his head and peered blearily up at Peter.

"You wouldn't be thinking of kicking an old man, would you Master Pan?"

"The fire just threw out sparks which were setting fire to your cloak. Would you rather I left you to burn?" Peter retorted, keeping his voice down so as not to wake Wendy.

Glancing down at the tendrils of smoke still rising from the bottom of his cloak, Bart patted at one Peter had missed then lay down with a satisfied grunt. "Thank 'ee, I thought I was getting a mite warm."

Shaking his head, Peter left the old man to settle back to sleep, making his way back to his bed roll and sitting down. Wendy was well asleep, her hand tucked under her cheek like a child, her bandaged feet sticking out from her blanket. Picking up the bucket he carried it to the stream and refilled it with ice cold water before returning and gently removing the now warm bandages around her feet. Wendy stirred but didn't awake, his touch not drawing her out of her slumber as he replaced the bandages and covered her feet with a corner of her blanket.

Pulling his coat about his chest, Peter lay down on his own bed and gazed across at Wendy, her face in shadow now that the fire had died down sufficiently.

"Sleep well Sweetness." Peter whispered, leaning across to press a kiss to her forehead before wrapping himself in his blanket. Still on his side, he settled the pack under his head and closed his eyes, sleep swiftly claiming him, the night settling over the small campsite with a contented sigh of the wind in the branches, a flurry sending a final shower of glittering embers up into the air to dance briefly among the stars.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Their progress up the volcano slopes the next morning was slower but just as steady, Wendy determined not to slow them down with her damaged feet. Peter had re-wrapped them and she'd managed to get them into a pair of shoes she'd brought. Careful not to let the full extent of the discomfort show on her face, Wendy demonstrated her ability to walk by carefully pacing about the camp under Peter's assessing stare.

"See, I can manage, the bandages are protecting the worst of the blisters from rubbing and the cold has numbed them nicely."

"I still think..." Peter started, only to have Wendy glare at him fiercely.

"I'm fine...let's get packed up. The sooner we leave the sooner we get further away from Hook."

Now they stood at the bottom of a scree slop staring up at a ledge with a dark opening gaping in the side of the mountain. The wind was tearing at their clothes and hair, the bald slope leaving them dangerously exposed to anyone scrutinizing the volcano from below.

"There 'tis...the entrance to the heart of the mountain." Bart announced, pointing at the dark maw and grinning toothily at his companions. Peter was looking up at the scree slope and trying to work out the best way to negotiate it while Wendy stared up at the slope and wondered if she ever be able to make it.

"Is there a path around this slope?" Peter asked, glancing over at Wendy before returning his gaze to their guide.

"Of sorts...follow me, and watch ya footing, it be slippery as an eel underfoot."

"Wait a minute Bart." Peter called, halting the man in his tracks. Turning, Bart watched as Peter unwound some of the rope about his middle before looping the end about Wendy's waist, attaching her to him.

"In case you fall," Peter reassured her when Wendy raised her eyes to his. She swallowed hard and managed a nod before turning to look up at the slope again. Bart only grunted and turned around, leading the way across the slope, apparently following a faint path marked only by a slight lessening in the amount of rocks covering the ground.

The higher they climbed, the steeper the slope became until they are almost walking on all fours to clamber over the rocks blocking the path that zigzagged across the face of the volcano, the entrance now only a few feet from where they scrabbled. Wendy was out of breath, her nails dirty and torn from scratching amongst the rocks for hand holds to prevent her slipping back down the slope. She kept her eyes fixed on the rope tethering her to Peter, her hair sticking to her face as she perspired freely despite the cold wind trying to blow her off the slope. At last they reached the jagged ledge that ran right up to the opening, Wendy grateful to straighten up, the pack feeling three times as heavy as when they'd started. Bart was up ahead and gesturing for them to hurry, his head turning to stare down the slope as if expecting someone to appear out of the tree line far below. Peter grinned broadly over his shoulder at her, his face as dusty as Wendy expected her's must be.

"Hurry young master...get you both inside and out of this wind," Bart chivvied them, his rags flapping in the blustery gale as Peter and Wendy approached along the narrow ledge to the yawning gap in the rock face. The old man seemed inordinately keen to get them out of sight, his eyes darting back and forth between the cave and the slope below them, his wide smile not lessening the tension in his face.

"Is there something wrong Bart?" Wendy asked as she passed the old pirate, her expression quizzical.

For a second the old man's smile slipped, then it was back and he shooed Wendy further into the dark opening, casting one last glance over his shoulder before entering the cave. Wendy felt a tug at her waist and turned to find Peter undoing the rope holding them together.

"We'll rest here a bit before carrying on. Here, let me help you take off that pack." Gratefully Wendy submitted to Peter easing the straps off her shoulders and dumping the pack on the dusty rock floor before sinking herself to the ground, not feeling the pebbles as she leant her back against the rough wall and closed her eyes.

"I'm so glad we've stopped." She breathed, her feet throbbing in their linen bindings, as choked with dust and grit as the rest of her.

"It's a little before midday, so we might as well have lunch here as anywhere, while we still have light to see by," Peter suggested, plumping himself down beside her and dragging over one of the packs.

"What are we going to use for lights once we're," Wendy pointed, "in there?"

"Bart?" Peter looked over at the old man.

"I keep pitch torches a little further on, they'll light our way," Bart explained, not moving from his spot on top of a rounded boulder which provided his seat.

"Well that's light taken care of...what about water?" Wendy asked, knowing full well they only had a small container to hold water other than the buckets.

"You'll find there's plenty of water down there," Bart thumbed his hand in the direction of the dark passageway, "you'd be surprised what's hidden beneath a mountain, there be streams and lakes and waterfall, just like above the ground, but all there, in the dark."

"Really? I never thought about it before, but I suppose there must be. After all, springs come from under the earth, and rivers flow underground sometimes."

"There are other wonders too, missy. Wonderful castles carved out of the rock, and palaces glittering with lights. It's like a fairy land down there, you wait and see."

"Goodness...and this tunnel, it was formed naturally? It looks so rounded, almost smooth."

"That's because it was formed by this very volcano itself, to carry the hot lava out of the mountain when it erupted."

"Erupted!" Wendy squeaked, staring about her as if expecting the rocks to melt underneath her.

Bart laughed. "No need to worry y'self...this ol' mountain hasn't puffed a cloud of smoke in a number of years and these lava tubes are as old as I am several times over."

"That's a relief...so there's no danger of it erupting while we're inside here?" Asked Wendy, munching on a piece of fruit.

"None whatsoever. Of course the volcano isn't dead, not by a long chalk. It still bubbles and simmers in its heart, waiting for time to pass until it's ready to grow again." Bart told her, taking the food offered to him by Peter.

"You seem to know an awful lot about this mountain," said Peter around a mouthful of food.

"I've been here a good many years, young master, and you gets to know all there is when you're poking around these caves, day in and day out."

Looking down at the food in his hand, Peter asked casually,"did you ever find the treasure Bart?"

For a second the old man's face appeared to sag, growing pale under his straggly beard as he stared at Peter. Peter didn't notice as he was looking at his food, but Wendy did and wondered why.

"Treasure you ask," Bart finally replied, laughing harshly. "There be no treasure in these caves, just rocks and worms and darkness."

"But you must have looked...as you said yourself, you've been down these caves long enough to know them like the back of your hand." Peter lifted his head and looked the old man square in the eyes, as if challenging him.

"I have spent more years than I care to think about in these tunnels, but I've never found anything other than more tunnels, more caverns and more darkness."

Wendy shivered, Bart's voice becoming more sepulchral as he spoke, a cloud choosing that moment to block out the sun and cast the entrance into shadow.

Blinking rapidly, Bart appeared to shake himself, then wolfed down the last of the food in his hand before brushing his fingers together and scrambling to his feet.

"I'll get them torches then, will I?" Not waiting for an answer, Bart loped off towards the interior and disappeared into the gloom. Peter gathered the remnants of the meal together and carefully replaced it in his pack. Wendy rubbed her arms, feeling a chill trickle down her back.

"Peter?"

"I know. He's a gloomy fellow but I don't think he means us any harm. We need a guide through these caves Wendy, and he's the only one I know."

Wendy laughed softly. "He is rather dour, I must admit. Maybe he's just been on his own too much."

"I'd say so...now lets see about those feet of yours."

Wendy gratefully submitted to Peter's ministrations as he changed the dressings on her feet and wrapped them with clean linen after using some of their precious water to rinse the dirt off them. Once more comfortably shod, Wendy and Peter hoisted their packs onto their shoulders and waited for Bart to return, which he did, carrying a bundle of similarly sized sticks with pitch soaked cloth wrapped around one end. There were too many for one to carry, so they were distributed equally amongst them all, Bart borrowing the tinderbox to ignite a small pile of dry grasses to make a tiny fire to light them. They only lit two, one for Bart to lead with, and one for Peter to carry in the rear, Wendy was to walk between them, her hands free.

With the torches burning brightly, Bart looked back at his two young companions and grinned. "The going it pretty easy for the first part of our journey, so don't dawdle, there'll be plenty of time to rest when we reach the first hurdle."

Not bothering to elaborate, Bart turned and marched off, the light of his torch sending shadows bobbing along the smooth walls. With a quick glance at Peter over her shoulder, Wendy set off after the old man, Peter's footsteps loud behind her.

Their progress, as predicted, was reasonably easy, the tunnel floor only occasional littered with rock falls and land slides that they negotiated easily, the light from the flickering torches making strange shadow creatures that danced and leapt over the walls beside them.

It was impossible to tell the passage of time inside the mountain, so it could have been one hour or several when Bart stopped ahead of Wendy, waiting for her and Peter to catch up.

"What is it?" Peter asked, coming to stand beside the old man.

"Our first obstacle, young master." With his free hand he pointed ahead, the light of the torch only reaching a few feet into the space ahead.

"I can't see anything," said Wendy, peering into the gloom.

"Then take a gander at ya feet, missy, and look again."

Wendy did and hurriedly took a step back. Bart and Peter were standing at the very edge of a sheer drop, a vast blackness stretching off below them to who knew what depth, as well as in front of them and above.

"This be the first of several large caverns, but not the largest." Bart explained.

"How do we get across it?" Peter asked, stretching his torch above his head to try and view the ceiling beyond his lights reach.

"This way." Bart indicated to the right and set off. Peter made to follow but Wendy still stood, rooted to the rock floor, her eyes huge in her face.

"Wendy?"

"I-I've put up with being kidnapped and-and trekking all over this wilderness, I've even put-put up with being incarcerated inside a blasted volcano...but-but I draw the line at being pitched over a precipice without a-a-a word of caution, or warning...for heaven's sake, one step and I would have dropped into nothing!"

"I'm sorry...I didn't think. I wouldn't have let you, you know. I had my hand on the back of your pack all the time."

"You did?" Wendy blinked at him.

"Of course...I was about to suggest I rope us back together again as I imagine the route down into the cavern will be narrow and not exactly safe."

"If you please..." Wendy quavered, her bravado deserting her.

"Here hold this," Peter handed her the torch which she held gingerly, keeping it far enough away so as not to spit and spark at her while Peter re-tethered her.

"There, that'll hold you. Ready now?"

Tilting her chin, Wendy nodded. "Are you ever afraid Peter?"

"Only of you." He replied, taking the torch.

"Me?" Wendy squeaked, turning to follow Bart who waited for them off to the side. "Why on earth would you be afraid of me?"

"Because of the way you make me feel. The way you've always made me feel...even when I didn't want to."

Bart was leading them along a narrow walkways that snaked back and forth across the cliff face like a goat track. With one hand brushing over the rock at her side, Wendy kept her focus on Bart's straggly grey hair and her eyes firmly away from the inky blackness to her left. As they tramped steadily downwards, Wendy thought over what Peter had said, his fear of feelings in the past was well known, even Hook understanding that Peter denied love because he feared the power it would have over him. But that was Peter as a boy who didn't want to grow up, who didn't want to work in an office, who didn't want to be a man. That was Peter before Wendy gave him her hidden kiss.

Now they had shared more than just a kiss, now they were no longer children, everything had changed. But still he feared her. Wendy mulled this over as they steadily descended into the darkness, the ledge widening to a pathway that allowed them to breath more easily as the slope leveled off near the floor of the cavern.

While Peter untied the rope, Wendy stared at the new wonder's on display before her. They were surrounded on both sides by stalagmites rising up from the floor like a stone forest, some stretching up to the ceiling, other's like blunt spikes of varying heights.

"We can't stop 'ere, but there's a place on t'other side that will make a perfect place to call a halt." Bart explained before leading them on a winding trail through the forest of glistening silica. The sound of the drips hitting the stone pillars was like a the faint patter of raindrops, a fine spray from the multiple impacts misted the air and coating them all with moisture. Wendy felt a trickle of water snake down her face and stuck out her tongue to catch the rogue drip at the corner of her mouth.

"It taste's like honey...so sweet!" She announced in surprise, licking her lips and looking back over her shoulder at Peter. He was as damp looking as Wendy, his eyes glinting wickedly as he lifted his hand to lick the skin on the back, smacking his lips and grinning back at her.

"Very sweet."

Feeling a blush steal over her face, Wendy almost blundered into a stalagmite, only avoiding the collision with a quick side step.

Peter watched Wendy dodge around the stone pillar and smiled to himself. It had always been like that, her face revealing her feelings before her words could confirm or attempt to deny them. It had intrigued him to tease her in the past, to make her blush and stammer, knowing all the time that he could invoke a reaction with a simple smirk or raised eyebrow. It had given him a warm glow when she smiled her sweet smile, the sun suddenly brighter, the sky bluer, as blue as her eyes. It had been the strength of his response to her that had frightened him so badly when she'd started to talk about feelings all those years ago, the fear provoking him into a violent rejection of his own heart, his own desire, a rejection of her. Even as he'd flown away he'd wanted to take back the harsh words, beg her to forget his stupid outburst and take him back, but she'd already gone from the fairy glade and he'd been too confused to face her again. Now those old feelings of fear and uncertainty were trying to find a niche in his happiness, eroding the glow that seemed to want to burst out of every inch of him every time he thought of what he and Wendy had done together and would do again before too long. Stamping down on those niggling doubts, Peter concentrated on letting all the love bottled up in his heart flood out and drown any hint of confusion from his mind, his body already committed to the girl who walked ahead of him, his heart laid at her feet all those years ago when he hardly knew the meaning of love.

At last they emerged from the tortuous path through the stalagmites and into a cleared area of the cavern floor, the rock pushed up into a series of broad steps and levels a little like an ruined amphitheater.

"Please say this is the end of our trek today?"

Bart carefully divested himself of his pack and laid it on the stone floor. "'Tis indeed the end for today, and may I say you've shown remarkable fortitude for a young lady, if I may be so bold as to mention."

"As long as that means I don't need to walk any more today, I'll take it as a compliment." Wendy replied, easing her own pack off her shoulders and dumping it on the ground with little care for its contents.

Bart found a crack in the floor in which to wedge his torch, Peter doing the same so that the fading flambeaux illuminated a circle and sent flickering shadows skittering off into the encroaching darkness beyond.

"Peter?"

"Yes Wendy?"

"I need to...um...take care of something."

"Well, pick a stalagmite, but don't wander beyond reach of the light."

"I won't...and please ask Bart if there's water around here somewhere."

Peter watched her disappear back into the forest of stalagmites at the edge of the circle of light. Turning back, he saw Bart walking away to find his own privacy, leaving Peter alone to pull open his and Wendy's packs and lay out their supplies for the night. When Bart returned, he rose to his feet.

"Is there a water source around here...other than the drips we just came through?" Peter asked him, shaking their only water container which was as good as empty.

"Indeed there is, just over that rise," Bart pointed. Picking up one of the buckets, Peter tossed it to the pirate then picked up the other himself.

Together they tramped up the slope, Peter hearing the rush of water before they saw it, a narrow channel cut into the rock by the fast running stream appearing out of the gloom and disappearing into a hole in the rock face. The water seemed to glow with a light of its own, shot through with a blue sparkle. Dipping in their buckets, the sparkle remained in the water like glittering silver dust, swirling and settling on the bottom as the water became still. Carefully they carried the buckets back to the makeshift campsite to find Wendy sitting on the outspread bedding and awaiting their return.

"Look Wendy...it glows!" Peter exclaimed only to have his excitement turn to disappointment when he found the liquid in the buckets no longer filled with sparkles but looking just like ordinary water.

"Well it did glow." He muttered, seeing Wendy's skeptical look. "Come and see."

Leaving the buckets behind he grabbed her hand and took her up the slope to the stream, Wendy gasping in delight as she saw what he meant.

"It's beautiful... what makes it glow like that?"

"I don't know...but whatever it is, it's only when the water is in this stream...when we took it out, it became just like ordinary water."

Reaching into the race, Wendy trailed her fingers in the fast flowing water, the sparkles in the liquid instantly attracted to her hand and attaching themselves like tiny motes, her skin quickly covered in sparkles until Peter yanked her hand out. Instantly the glow faded and plain water dripped off her fingers, now feeling numb with the cold.

"Oh...they're gone."

"You're fingers are like ice!" Peter exclaimed, chafing her hands between his larger, warmer ones, a worried expression on his face.

"Ow...you're rubbing too hard Peter."

Immediately he stopped, keeping her hand in his to warm it.

"Sorry...but it was like they were frozen solid. Didn't you feel the cold?"

"Not when my hand was in the water, no."

Drawing her away from the stream, Peter kept her hand in his until they got back to the camp. Peering suspiciously at the buckets, Peter dipped his own finger into the water, but it just felt cold, not icy. Lifting his finger he tasted the liquid still coating it but could detect nothing unusual in its taste or temperature.

Cautiously satisfied that the water wasn't going to harm them, they kept one bucket for drinking, and one for washing. The damp mist had left them all with wet hair and damp clothes. Away from the stalagmite forest, the rock floor was bone dry so Peter and Wendy decided to change into dry clothes and leave their damp ones out to dry overnight, laid out on the flat rocks. Not wanting to get wet amongst the rock pillars, Peter had to hold one of the blankets up as a curtain while Wendy changed behind it as quickly as she could. Then she did the same for him, the curtain more for Wendy's modesty than anyone elses.

In dry clothes again, they tried to persuade Bart to discard his wet cloak for something dry, but the old man refused, huddling into his rags like a turtle retreating into its shell. They had no wood for a campfire so just sat between the spluttering torches and ate the last of the cooked meat and some fruit. After the meal Peter redressed Wendy's feet, their condition vastly improved despite the discomfort, the blisters healing well within their protective bandages. Her feet comfortable, Wendy then tried to bring some order to her damp hair, the brush almost ending up being thrown away as snags and tangles frustrated her.

"Here...let me try." Peter took the inoffensive brush from Wendy's clenched fist and turned her away. "You're just making it worse."

"Since when did you have any practice brushing a ladies hair?" Wendy asked petulantly, cross with herself for losing her patience.

"Oh, there was a mermaid or two..." Peter replied, only to receive a scorching glare from his lady love that made him grin widely.

"A mermaid?"

"Or two." Peter teased, turning her head back to face the front with his free hand.

Wendy sat in rigid indignation as he carefully separated her hair into sections, attacking each hank with strong sure strokes from the crown of her head to the tip, the soothing brushing easing the tension in her shoulders as she succumbed to the seduction of having her hair dressed.

It took some time to untangle all the snarls and knots but eventually Peter was able to brush the entire sweep of her hair without encountering a single snag. Wendy was almost asleep, lulled drowsy from the rhythmic motion of his brushing.

"I always thought your hair was beautiful back then...but now," he ran his fingers through the strands and watched it fall over his arm like a shimmering fall of silk.

"Mother calls it my crowning glory." Wendy murmured, her eyes closed.

"Now it's my glory." Peter whispered against her ear, scooting up behind to wrap himself around her. Wendy relaxed against his chest, her fingers entwining with his as he pressed a kiss against her cheek. The feel of his lips made her eyes pop open and she glanced over at the old pirate.

"He's asleep," Peter's seductive whisper came again as Wendy's gaze confirmed his words. Bart was indeed asleep, curled up a little like a hedgehog among his rags, his head tucked against his knees, the faint buzz of his snoring audible across the distance between them.

"I suppose we should do the same," Wendy whispered back, rubbing her cheek against his face, feeling the faint rasp of stubble against her skin.

"It'll be cold on these hard rocks," Peter breathed against her ear, sending shivers down her back.

"Then we'll have to make our bed as comfortable as possible," Wendy murmured back to him.

"Our bed?"

"Only to conserve body heat..."

"Of course...body heat."

With a sigh, Peter disengaged their fingers and scrambled to his feet while Wendy gazed up at him with a small smile playing about her lips. She watched as Peter gathered their blankets together in one pile along with their packs, creating one bed wide enough for them both. With a waves of his arm he indicated for her to join him, which she did.

Like awkward children they lay down fully dressed on the thin mattress, Peter spooning up behind Wendy before pulling the blankets over their bodies and tucking it in around them both.

With a little shuffling and shifting they found a position that suited them both, Peter's heat warming Wendy's back while his arm looped over her waist and hugged her body snuggly against his chest.

"Warm enough?"

"Positively glowing," Wendy giggled, feeling his fingers squeeze her through her dress. She felt Peter shake against her as he laughed, the muscles in his arm tightening as he moved infitisimally closer.

In the silence they could still hear the patter of drips against the growing stalagmites and the faint rush of water from the stream. The torches that had provided their light were finally fading, spluttering as they used up the last of the pitch.

"Peter, are you really afraid of me...of what you feel for me?"

A silence stretched between them. Then Peter finally spoke.

"I thought I was, but really I was just afraid of what would happen if you really didn't love me...if what I'd believed all this time was only in my imagination."

"I thought that too...that all this wasn't real, couldn't be real. But it is, isn't it?"

"Oh yes...very real."

They lay for a long moment listening to the sounds of the cave.

"Peter...what's going to happen, when we get out of here?"

"I suppose...we find the Nymph, get the other book back from Hook after we foil his attempt to find us, get married, thwart whatever diabolical plan the Keeper has up his smoky sleeve and live happily ever after."

"Oh..." Peter felt Wendy stiffen, her head almost twisting off her neck as she struggled to turn and face him. "Did you say married?"

"You did say you might be carrying our child, which would make you a Mother, and if I'm to be a Father aren't they usually married?"

"Y-y-es."

"Then I suppose we ought to get married then...don't you think?"

Wendy finally freed herself from his arm and turned around to face him, her hair falling forward like a curtain as she braced herself above him. In the dying light of the torches she stared down at him with an intent expression on her face, her eyes trying to gauge if he was being quite serious.

"You're not teasing me, are you Peter, because I would be quite cross if I thought you were making fun of me."

Quite liking having Wendy looking down at him, Peter gave her one of his lazy smiles. "I love it when you get cross with me."

"And you're not just asking because...b-b-because of what we did and I might be having a b-b-baby?"

"Did I mention I love it when you stutter?"

"Don't you think we're being a little hasty?...I mean...it's rather sudden."

"Sudden? I don't think six years is a short time! How long to do you need to make up your mind!"

"I-I-I..."

"Do...and I do too, so that's settled then."

Wendy stared down at his smug expression and closed her mouth with a snap.

"You are quite the most impossible, incorrigible, irascible..."

"Lovable?" Peter offered.

Unable to keep her indignation in place, Wendy gave in and smiled down at him, her eyes glowing. "Quite the most lovable."

"Then kiss me and let's get to sleep, these rocks aren't getting any softer."

Feeling Wendy tense in readiness to deliver a blow to his arm in punishment for his cheekiness, Peter gathered her close and flipped her over, careful not to let her head connect with the hard floor by cradling it in his hand. Not allowing her to catch her breath Peter pressed his lips to hers, invading her mouth with his eager tongue and finding her more than ready to duel with him. Getting rapidly over her surprise at his quick manoeuver, Wendy wrapped her arms about his neck and returned his kiss, the blankets becoming tangled around them as their bodies fought to get closer. With Peter's hands roaming over her body, Wendy moaned and clutched him closer before a loud snort from their traveling companion made them both freeze into immobility. Breathing heavily, Peter closed his eyes and willed his body to cease it's clamoring, his heart thumping loudly in his chest as he dropped his head to bring his and Wendy's foreheads together.

"Not...exactly...the...best...place...to...consummate...our engagement." He panted, groaning when Wendy heaved a sigh, pressing her breasts and their hardened peaks against his chest.

"Agreed."

Disentangling themselves, they shifted until they were once more positioned back to front, Peter spooning up behind Wendy and the blankets tucked around them.

"I can feel your heartbeat." Wendy whispered, holding his arm against her side with her own.

"And I can feel yours too." Peter whispered back, shifting his hand and cupping her breast through her dress, her heartbeat pattering against his hand.

"Peter!"

Groaning in frustration he removed his hand and put it back at her waist, his lower body still hard where it pressed against her rounded derriere.

"Sorry...I can't help that."

"That's alright...I know all about boys...and that."

"Oh?"

"You forget...I have brothers, and John was frequently embarrassed by his...doing that at inopportune times."

"Really...well that's a comfort I suppose. I have a feeling that," He flexed his hips, nudging her suggestively, "will be happening all to frequently from now on, so I'm glad it won't...er...embarrass you too much."

"I suppose I should really be quite flattered I have that affect on you."

"Very flattered." Peter nuzzled her hair, squeezing her against him.

They lay silent for several minutes. Finally Wendy spoke.

"I wouldn't mind being a mother...if you are the father, Peter."

"Good." Peter replied drowsily.

"And I wouldn't mind marrying you either."

"Even better." His voice came back distinctly sleepy.

"Goodnight Peter."

"Night Sweetness."

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TBC...


	12. Traitor

7/10/05 

Title: To Have and To Hold

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Twelve - Traitor

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Peter was the first to wake up, his eyes adjusting to the darkness as he lay warm and relaxed beside Wendy, despite the hard rock beneath him. To his surprise the darkness was a long way from complete, a smattering of bright points appeared suspended above his head. As his vision adjusted he saw more of the pale blue specks, some far away, others surprisingly close above their campsite, some clustered together to make large colony's of glowing lights.

Wendy was still asleep, her body soft and pliant in his arms, her breath puffing out in little sighs as she dreamed. Peter smiled and closed his eyes content to doze, but something nagged at him and he found himself unable to sleep again. Deciding to make a virtue out of necessity he carefully disengaged himself from his sleeping partner and rolled out of the blankets onto his knees. To his amazement he could see that the walls of the cavern they were in were coated with millions upon millions of glow worm colonies, the rocks appearing to radiate with the creatures' biological emissions, casting a bluish light over everything. It wasn't as bright as daylight by any stretch of the imagination, but it was sufficient for Peter to realise that their guide was no longer with them and neither were any of their backpacks.

On his guard, he carefully searched the entire area between the extinguished torches still stuck in the floor. Apart from the clothes that they had slept on which included their coats, the small pack Wendy had used for a pillow and the blankets, all else had disappeared. Even the damp items they'd left out to dry were gone. Cursing under his breath, Peter went beyond the camps small perimeter and walked up the slope to the steam then further around until he came back to where Wendy still slumbered.

Laying down once more beside Wendy he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly, willing his fear to subside so that he could think of a plan to get them out of their predicament. Wendy stirred and turned over, her face coming to rest against his neck as she snuggled into his warmth.

"Wendy it's time to wake up," Peter murmured, one hand running up and down her arm to jostle her awake.

"It's still dark..." Wendy slurred, settling against him more comfortably. "This bed is awfully hard..."

"Wendy, we're not in a bed, we're sleeping on a rock floor, and I need you to wake up."

Peter's forceful whisper pulled Wendy from her sleep and made her stiffen in his arms when she noted the hard surface beneath her.

"The cave?"

"That's right, remember?"

She nodded, relaxing her limbs.

"Are you awake now?"

She nodded again.

"We have a problem Wendy...Bart is gone and so are all our belongings except what we're sleeping on."

For a moment Wendy didn't react, then Peter felt her body go tense then start to struggle.

"What?"

He let her go and waited for her to sit up on her knees, Peter sitting up beside her as she stared wildly around, her eyes wide.

"What happened?" She asked reaching out for him, Peter taking her hand and holding it tightly in his.

"I don't know...I haven't been awake very long myself, but he's gone, and so are the spare torches, the food, everything but what we used for our bed."

"Oh Peter! What are we going to do?"

"Well light won't be quite the problem it could have been...look around, we're in a glow worm grotto."

Taking heart from his calm voice and composure, Wendy gulped and tried to still her racing heart. Looking around she noticed the bluish glow surrounding them, the rocks apparently spangled with pin pricks of light. "Oh my...there must be millions of them."

"Hundreds of millions I suspect."

"Peter...why are you so calm? Aren't you worried that we've been stranded here in a cave with no hope of finding the way out?"

"Yes I'm worried...I'm worried that you'll go all girly on me and have a fit of hysterics!"

"Well of all the rotten...horrid things to say! I'll have you know I've never had a fit of hysterics in my life." Wendy retorted, conveniently forgetting her more recent episodes largely in reaction to her visions.  
P.  
"Just as well because I don't need a vaporous female on my hands right now."

Completely incensed, Wendy could only gasp loudly and scowl furiously at him while she launched herself upwards and on to her feet. Her fear thoroughly routed, Wendy started to gather their bedding together, throwing Peter his coat which he'd used as a pillow.

Peter smiled grimly, his tactic to make Wendy forget her fear all too successful as his coat caught him under the chin. He wasn't prepared to let her know just how worried he was, their predicament quite dire given their lack of food and ability to carry water. Hastily he searched his pockets for anything usable, an assortment of small weapons greeting his questing fingers along with the rusted tinderbox and Wendy's acorn pendant. For safety he slipped it over his own head and tucked it inside his shirt before stamping into his boots and donning the coat. Wendy had found her own coat among the bedding and put that on over her dress, the remainder bundled into the center of one of the blankets which she then knotted to make as small a parcel as possible.

"We can't go back the way we came as we'd easily get lost in that maze of stalagmites back there," He thumbed in the direction of the stone forest. "I suggest we follow the stream as far as it goes and see where it leads."

"Why the stream?" Wendy asked curtly, her tightly reined anger obvious in her voice.

"Follow me and I'll show you."

With their eyes thoroughly accustomed to the half gloom of the glow worms, they made their way up the wide steps of stone to where the stream rushed on its way towards the hole in the wall. The water glowed even more brightly than before with the total absence of light and they could see that it wound it's way some distance before disappearing about a corner. Peter pointed and Wendy stared in the direction of his finger. On the floor someone had splashed a quantity of the water out of the stream leaving a dark stain against the dry rocks surface. The same someone had obviously paddled in the spilled water and soaked their feet because a trail of wet footprints led away from the stream while keeping parallel with it.

"Black Hearted Bart has unwittingly left us a path to follow. If these glow worms extend into the next cave or wherever these footprints lead, we can follow him out of the mountain."

"It's a wonder you don't tire of being so clever all the time." Wendy remarked waspishly, still smarting from his comments about hysterical females.

"Hold onto my coat, I don't want you to get lost in this gloom." Peter instructed her, ignoring her remark and taking hold of the bundle. He had also collected the two former flambeaux and handed them to Wendy to carry under her arm. When he felt her grip tug at his coat tail he set off, his eyes firmly fixed on the trail of wet prints leading them alongside the stream and further into the cave system.

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It seemed that they walked for hours, sometimes in brightly illuminated patches where the glow worms seemed to mass, in others they only had the glow of the water to guide them, groping their way over boulders and around stalagmites that rose out of the ground like ghosts. When the light was at its best they could still make out Bart's footprints, the water getting fainter as his rags obviously started to dry out. They had passed out of the large cavern and into a series of small caves, each linked to the other by the stream which alternately widened and narrowed along stretches of its length. Eventually the footprints ended and Peter stopped, Wendy bumping against him, too hungry and tired to notice he was stationary.

"Why have we stopped?" Wendy asked, her voice husky having barely said a word since they'd set out.

"There's nothing to follow. The trail has ended." Peter told her, keeping his voice neutral.

Wendy stared at him blankly, barely able to make out his features in the gloom, let alone his expression.

"What are we going to do?" Wendy whispered, clutching convulsively at his coat.

"We can still follow the stream, and we'll watch out for anything else that will tell us which way to go."

Wendy didn't speak for a moment, her heart seeming to want to leap out of her chest with the force of its beating. Swallowing down her fear, she tried to keep the tremor out of her voice. "Okay...let's go then."

Hearing the quaver despite her best efforts, Peter lifted his hand to touch her face but stopped at the last second, somehow knowing that if he showed her any weakness she'd break down and not be able to go on.

Clenching his fist he turned away and continued down the path beside the stream, hoping that their luck would hold out a little longer.

Not much further along the glow worms started to disappear, plunging them into a stygian darkness, the glowing stream their only source of illumination. They traveled more slowly, the water flowing through a narrow fissure which seemed to close in on them the further in they traveled until they could touch each wall with their outstretched hands.

"Peter?" Wendy's voice came to him faintly, terror making it wobble in the darkness.

"We keep going Wendy...Bart came this way, so it must be passable."

"You don't know that, he might have turned off...we might have missed any number of tunnel opening in this place."

"No...I'm sure he came this way...trust me."

"I do...I-I-I just..."

"I know...don't let go Wendy."

"I won't."

They kept going, the walls pressing ever closer until Peter had to bend over or hit his head on the overhang. Pausing, he crouched down beside the narrow channel that continued to flow back the way they'd come, the brightness not dimmed. He could hear Wendy's labored breathing behind him and could feel her hands convulsively clutching at his coat. Fear started to grip him, his heart pounding as he lowered his head and tried to still the tremor shaking his limbs. Sucking in a deep breath he raised his head and stared ahead, straining to pierce the darkness ahead.

"I think I see something...there's a light up ahead!"

"A light? Is it Bart?"

"I don't know...it's steady, not like a flame...and it's green."

"Green?"

"It's going to get very narrow and low, so be prepared to crawl."

"We won't get stuck, will we?"

"Don't know...keep close and follow me."

They pressed onwards, the cave roof lowering until they had to go on their hands and knees, the stream still flowing like a bright ribbon past them while they crawled towards the unknown.

Peter emerged into the next cavern and looked about him incredulously. Behind him Wendy wriggled her way out of the narrow fissure and stood beside him, her own face expressing her surprise.

The cavern surrounding them was bathed in a greenish light that seemed to come from the rock itself, every surface whether flat or rounded emitting a green glow.

"I feel like we're inside an emerald." Wendy whispered, her fingers clutching at Peter's coat sleeve as they stood and stared.

The cavern was not as huge as the one containing the stalagmites, but it was still big, the green light bright enough to show the thickly clustered stalactites hanging from the ceiling, reaching down towards their smaller offspring rising from the floor. The stream that had been their constant companion appeared to originate from this cave, an opening high up on one sheer wall disgorging a steady stream of sparkling water that dropped thirty feet to a huge rock pool below before spilling over and running into the well worn channel they'd followed.

"It's beautiful but so strange." Wendy remarked, walking further into the cavern and turning around, her head tilted up to stare at the ceiling so far above them. Peter was examining a pile of fallen rock not far from where they'd emerged. Crouching down he picked up a section of broken rock and peered at it. On the inside the rock appeared as normal, dark grey shot through with specks of black and streaks of white. On the outside the rock was coated with something that felt soft and almost slimy, no longer green and glowing, but obviously the source of the light surrounding them.

"It must be a moss or fungus of some sort I suppose." Peter suggested, dropping the rock and wiping his fingers on his coat. Looking at the floor he could see that the mat of green was continuous without a hint of a break or separation from the rock. Even the effect of Wendy walking over the verdant carpet didn't seem to bother it, her footprints slowly fading as the crushed vegetation resumed its former untouched state. Wendy had wandered over to the pool, leaning on a rocky ledge to peer into the phosphorescent depths.

"Peter!"

Hurrying to her side, Peter tried to see what had alarmed her.

"What? What's the matter?"

"There's something alive in this pool...I saw a splash...I think I saw...a..a..tail."

"A fish?"

"No...bigger than a fish."

As they turned to look across the wide pool something broke the surface on the far side and Wendy pointed excitedly. "See? I told you, something much bigger than a fish."

Peter narrowed his eyes and tried to focus on the water's surface but the green light made everything look strange, the glittering liquid confusing him. Taking hold of Wendy's arm he started to pull her away from the edge of the pool. Before they had gone half a dozen paces the water at the rim started to boil and seethe, a figure rising up out of the water until it towered almost ten feet above the surface.

"Who presumes to disturb my rest? Speak mortal or suffer the fate of those that would steal from me."

Peter stood his ground, Wendy beside him as he stared up at the amphibian looming over them, its black skin and stiffly fanned spines gleaming menacingly in the strange light.

"We don't want to steal anything...from you or anybody. We're lost and need help finding out way out of the mountain.

Wendy was shaking so hard her teeth were chattering. "What is it Peter? What did it say?"

"Didn't you hear it speak?" Peter answered impatiently, never taking his eyes from the half-human figure sitting up on its powerful tail in front of them.

"No. I heard what you said, but all that thing did was make a horrible gargling sound."

Peter stared at Wendy in disbelief but her wide eyes and puzzled expression told him she wasn't lying.

"Well mortal? Are you going to keep me waiting all day? Who are you and what do you want?" The creatures voice snapped him out of his stupor, Wendy shrinking back against him as the gargling rasp rolled over her.

"I am Captain Pan of the Nymph and this is Wendy...we were traveling through the caves to get to the other side of the volcano, but our guide abandoned us, so we followed the stream which led us here."

"A likely tale...I suppose Bart was your guide?" The creature asked, the sharp spines on its shoulders and forearms subsiding.

"You know him?" Peter stared at the creature in surprise.

"Anyone who spends any time among these rocks gets to meet me eventually. I know of Bart."

"Who are you and why are you here, so far from the sea?" Peter asked.

"You think I am of the merfolk?"

"Aren't you?"

"Maybe once, a long time ago...but I have lived here for most of my life and know no other. The sea is a distant memory and I do not long for it anymore."

"Then you are indeed a strange merman," said Peter, staring into the creatures obsidian eyes fearlessly.

"Why does your woman cower so, has she never seen a merman before?"

Wendy had buried her face against Peter's shoulder, the ghastly sounds issuing from the merman's mouth sending shivers down her limbs.

"No, and for that matter neither have I...only your sisters swim in these waters around Neverland, I have never met one of your sex before today."

As if suddenly realizing that he still held a threatening stance, the merman subsided back into the water, submerging half his body but leaving his well muscled torso clear of the sparkling waves and beckoning Peter to approach.

"It is true that the sisterhood outnumber the brethren considerably, but I had thought there a few still calling the sea of Neverland home."

"Then they must be very shy, or held close by their mates." Peter informed him, drawing himself and Wendy closer to the pool.

The merman let out a bark of laughter which echoed around the cavern. Wendy, who had been cautiously peeping from the safety of Peter's arms, instantly quaked and turned away, burrowing into Peter in fear.

"It's alright Wendy, he means us no harm really." Holding her close, Peter tried to sooth her, his eyes meeting those of the merman over her head as he attempted to reason with her.

"A weak and cowardly creature you have for a mate...the sisterhood would rend her to shreds given half a chance," the merman remarked, resting his forearms on the edge of the pool.

"She is anything but cowardly and braver than I am." Peter retorted, defending Wendy hotly, the merman giving him a sardonic look in reply.

"How is it the mate of the once and future King of Neverland does not understand the creatures of your realm? You understand me, yet you say you have never met one of my kind...is she not the chosen?"

"Wendy is not of Neverland...and I don't know why I understand you as you say, I have never met one of your kind, only the mermaids, and they do not speak as you do."

"True...but as the King of Neverland you are expected to know all, see all and judge all in Neverland. If you had not understood me, then you would both have been providing a welcome meal for this empty belly of mine."

"Are you in league with the Keeper?"

"No...but I know of the prophecy, I know that Neverland must be renewed before it can continue as it has done and all within the realm live as they do now."

"...if the two stay safe in good hands, Neverland will prosper, but if the two fall into evil hands, then Neverland will end and a new world come into being...a winter gripped land without ever seeing the sun and all life corrupted within its influence...only darkness takes its place." Wendy's quoted, her usually soft voice harsh and deep, as if the words came from a different throat. Peter and the Merman stared at her, shocked as much by her words as her voice.

"She knows what is written?" Asked the merman leaning forward to peer more closely at Wendy.

"The Oracle showed her." Peter told him, his hands gripping Wendy's shoulders as he shook her to bring her out of her trance.

Wendy blinked rapidly then swiveled her eyes to stare apprehensively at the Merman. "Peter?"

"Are you alright? You seemed to go in to a trance."

"I did?"

Peter nodded, the merman repeating the motion behind him when Wendy looked over Peter's shoulder.

"I-I-I don't remember...what did I do?"

"Nothing..you repeated the prophecy."

"Why?"

"Maybe to remind us why you are here." The merman rumbled, slapping the surface of the water with his tail and sending water swamping over the side. Before it could reach Wendy and Peter it was absorbed instantly into the green substance coating the floor.

"We need to get out of this mountain and back to my ship. Can you give us a map or show us a way out?"

"I am unable to leave this cavern, but I can give you a map, of sorts. Wait here, I will return." With a surge, the merman pushed away from the ledge and dived back into the pool, quickly disappearing into the depths with a flick of his powerful tail.

"I have to sit down." Wendy announced, her legs giving way so that she collapsed rather than sat on the green sward covering the rock floor.

Peter crouched down beside her and peered into her face. "Wendy?"

"I'm sorry Peter but I'm quite possibly going to do something entirely girly and hysterical quite soon."

Peter smiled at her matter of fact announcement of her intentions, his eyes already telling him that Wendy was at the end of her strength. The shocks from that day alone were taking their toll, not to mention the strange force that seemed to take control of her whenever it wanted, as if she were no more than a puppet.

"He's gone to get us a map we can use to get out of these caves."

"I still don't know how you can interpret those horrible noises he makes...they scare the life out of me. And how does it seem that he understands you? You're not speaking his language, thank goodness."

"I'll have to ask him." Peter replied flippantly, trying to raise a smile.

Wendy only managed a ghost of one, her nerves too tightly wound to allow her to relax. An eruption of water in the center of the pool alerted them that the merman was returning. Wendy stayed where she was while Peter rose to meet the creature as he emerged from the water holding something clasped in his webbed hand.

"This is a map of the cave system."

"It's a carving!" Peter exclaimed, taking the heavily ornate rock from the merman's hand. It was roughly shaped like a ball, about the size of a small melon, its surface intricately carved to represent caves and caverns with interconnecting tunnels and fissures.

"It is one of my treasures, so treat it with care..." The merman grumbled, leaning forward to point out how to use it as a map, giving Peter the necessary starting point and indicating the route he suggested they take. To read the ball required one to think three dimensionally, Peter twisting the ball in his hand to follow the merman's instructions as he followed the carvings on and inside the map. When he felt he knew what he needed to know, Peter tucked the rock inside his coat. It was surprisingly light, as rocks go, so apart from creating a lump, it was no problem to carry.

"How is it you know what I say? Usually I speak to your sisters in their tongue, but with you I haven't needed to." Peter asked.

The merman pulled back his lips and grinned toothily. "Have they never told you...we merfolk don't learn the way you mortal's do, we absorb everything we know from our prey...directly."

Peter stared at the creature, his brow furrowed for a moment.

"Do you mean..."

"The lure of treasure has brought many to these caves in search of it. They have all added to my knowledge of this world...as well as feeding my appetite." The merman smacked his lips, his eyes gleaming in the green light.

Peter swallowed hard and took a step back, his eyes flicking to the pool. "Why have you not...absorbed...Bart?"

"Hah! to old and too tough...but one day, if I get hungry enough I might add him to my fund of knowledge."

"You never told me your name?"

"You would not be able to pronounce it...and I have got out of the habit of being addressed as anything other than the emerald guardian. Now look to your mate, future King of Neverland, she is being overcome by my pets."

Peter glanced back at Wendy and let out a cry. Overcome by events, Wendy had laid her head on the soft green ground, not realizing that what they had thought was glowing vegetation, was in fact a living community of closely packed creatures who were now swarming over Wendy and preparing to absorb her into their colony. Using his hands Peter scooped the encroaching green tide away from Wendy before pulling her to her feet, jolting her awake in the process.

"Wh-a-at?"

"We can't stay here Wendy...we have to move on to the next cave."

"But I was comfortable...Peter?"

He held her up with an arm about her waist while he brushed more of the creeping green from her skirts. Wendy looked down and gave a small shriek as she perceived her danger. Together they removed all trace of the green creatures and turned to leave, hurrying across the floor after gathering up their meager belongings. As they prepared to leave the glowing green cavern Peter stopped and turned for one last look at the Emerald Guardian, the merman still at the edge of the pool staring after them. Peter raised his arm and the creature did the same before diving out of sight back into the pool.

After a last look at the glittering water and the green glowing cavern, Peter and Wendy turned their backs and hurried down the passageway, welcoming the blue light of the glow worms who reappeared once they were clear of the guardian's domain.

Peter pictured the rock map in his head as they tramped down one corridor of stone after another, Wendy doggedly keeping up as Peter pushed them to the limits of their endurance.

At last they stumbled into a smallish cavern and Peter gave a glad cry. A shaft of sunlight pierced the gloom of their rocky prison and shone down on the boulder strewn floor. According to the map this cave was close to the outside wall of the volcano and part of the relatively thin crust had caved in at some time, leaving part of the roof of the cavern open to the sky. The hole looked small from their position below but in fact was several meters wide and fringed with small plants. Wendy and Peter stared up at the opening, grateful for even that pitiful light source after the gloom of the tunnels. Finding a cleared space they collapsed and prepared to rest before resuming their journey. They had passed several small cascades of water since leaving the green cave and managed to drink their fill but water did little to help their empty bellies. Wendy pulled over the blanket holding their few possessions and laid her head on it, almost instantly falling asleep despite her griping stomach. Peter, after a cursory check of the cave, crawled over and joined her, sharing the bundle and wrapping himself around her after taking out the stone map and undoing his dusty coat to act as a blanket for them both. The rock floor was gritty and hard but neither were cognizant of the discomfort and slept unhindered and unaware.

Several hours later they stirred, the sun still shining through the hole in the roof. After hastily taking care of their ablutions, they crossed the floor of the cavern and approached what they hoped was their last stage of the journey to the outside. Peter had checked the map and memorized it before tucking it back inside his coat. Wendy stood behind him, one hand tightly clenched in the material of his coat tails, her mind a blank as Peter started down the tunnel, the faint gleam of sunlight left behind as they plunged into the glow worm gloom of the caves again.

The final passage to the outside was littered with rock falls and landslides making their journey that much harder, both becoming mired in rock dust and mud as they scrambled over heaped earth and dusty gravel.

"I can see daylight...we're nearly out Wendy!" Peter shouted from the top of another rock fall. Wendy stood at the base, her legs rubbery as she drew in a deep breath before tackling the rubble mountain before her.

A smattering of pebbles announced Peter's return as he scrabbled down the rock fall to help her up the uneven slope. Together they made their slow progress to the ridge of the scree and looked beyond. Wendy could see what looked like a rough circle some distance away, the light coming through coloured a faint green as the sunlight filtered through the greenery covering the entrance to the cave.

"Only a bit further Wendy...that's sunlight out there...come on, just a bit further."

Rejuvenated, they stumbled forward, Peter supporting Wendy as they negotiated the last of the rocks blocking the tunnel. Small plants had colonized the entrance to the cave system, feathering the walls and ceiling, the hanging leaves of ladder ferns brushing against them as Peter and Wendy finally reached the end of their trek through the mountain.

As they left the mouth of the cave they stopped and stared at the jungle laid out in front of them, the verdant greenery a balm to their gritty, tired eyes. Peter led them forward after a minute or two, away from the tunnel and into the shade of the trees, wading their way through the thick ferns that carpeted the hillside of the volcano.

"We're out and safe Wendy...out and safe.."

"Out and safe..." Wendy whispered, almost too tired and sore to care. Peter stumbled and they almost lost their footing, clutching each other to stay upright, a giggle forcing its way past Wendy's lips as they clung weakly to each other.

"I must look a fright." She gasped in between her giggles, Peter grinning at her, his eyes dancing.

"But a very beautiful fright..." He said gallantly, still grinning widely.

"For once I agree with you Pan...a beautiful fright indeed, but a most welcome sight for these patient eyes."

Wendy felt a cold wave pass over her as Hook's voice boomed out, Peter stiffening against her side as he twisted around to find the source of the voice.

Out of the shadows appeared figures, their eyes fixed on the young couple at their center, each apparently armed and ready for anything. The blades and knives held in each hand glinted wickedly in the shafts of sunlight penetrating the jungle canopy above their heads as the pirates closed the circle around their prey. Wendy stared in horror at the men surrounding them, her body shaking as she struggled to understand what was happening. Peter stood beside her, his body tense as a bowstring, his head turning as he watched the approach of the pirate hoard, his hands clenching into fists at his side.

The pirates halted their approached when they had Peter and Wendy surrounded on all sides in a large circle, their weapons bristling menacingly, all of them grinning at the pair in front of them.

Wendy swallowed on a dry mouth as another figure approached, pushing his way through the cordon to stand just inside the ring formed by his own men.

"Hook!" Peter hissed, his teeth bared as he faced his nemesis without the means to defend himself or Wendy.

"Hook..." Wendy breathed, Hook's pale blue eyes boring into her skull as she stared back, one hand lifting to flutter at her throat while the other reached for Peter. Before either man could react her eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted dead away, her world going dark as the circle of pirates closed in on them, Hook's cruel laugh echoing in her head before she slipped free of reality and gave in to the blackness.

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TBC...


	13. Found and Bound

11/10/05 

Title: To Have and To Hold

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Thirteen - Found and Bound.

Author's Note: Nasty things happen to Peter and Wendy while captives of Hook, so be prepared for painful things, drama and angst. Nothing unpalatable will happen to our heroes, but expect some bumps and bruises along they way, as in the movie. Pirates will be pirates, after all is said and done.

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Wendy's collapse seemed to be a signal for the pirates to rush forward, en mass, to capture Peter while he crouched next to her body. Rough hands pulled him away even as he fought to stay beside her, the pirates not adverse to throwing several punches, pummelling him into submission. When they finally parted, having bound his arms behind his back, Peter was bruised and bloody, his coat gone, his shirt nearly torn from his body with their violent handling. In the melee he'd lost sight of Wendy, his desperate fight carrying him away from where she lay. When the pirates stepped back he saw she was being carried, still unconscious, in the arms of a brawny pirate standing next to Hook, the pirate Captain watching Peter's struggle with a malicious gleam in his eye.

Battered but not beaten Peter glared defiantly up at Hook from the ground, kneeling on a map of crushed ferns, the plants flattened from the fray. Hook smiled to himself, casting a glance at the insensible girl in Grant's arms before sauntering across to Peter to gloat.

"Oh the cleverness of Hook. Peter Pan finally snared, bloody and bound at my feet...how delicious."

Peter spat blood from his mouth before speaking. "How did you...?"

"How did I find you?" Hook interrupted him, his hand sliding into his coat to withdraw the slim volume stolen from Wendy's bedroom back in London. Holding it up he waggled it, a smirk painting his lips below his moustache. "Easy when you know where to look."

Peter dropped his gaze and stared at the ground.

Hook raised his eyebrows and casually replaced the book inside his coat. "What? No protest?...No threats? But of course, I hold the ace, do I not? You don't want to risk losing sight of that, do you?"

Turning to his left, Hook glanced over at Wendy, gesturing for Grant to bring her closer. Peter gritted his teeth and struggled to free his hands, aware that anything he said to threaten Hook could have consequences for Wendy.

"A pretty piece, under all that dirt. I almost thought she'd recognize me in the bookshop, but women are silly creatures, they only see what they want to see...and she really didn't want to see me!"

Reaching out his hand Hook brushed the back of his fingers down Wendy's cheek, flicking it lightly before moving away. Peter strained against his bonds but the ropes were too well knotted, his corded muscles conveying how much force he was using to free himself even while he schooled his face to show as little as possible.

"Leave her alone you bastard!"

"And what if I choose not to? You're not in a position to do anything if I decide to take fair Wendy and have my wicked way with her, she is, after all, a wench and they are in short supply in these islands."

"Touch her and you die!" Peter raged, incensed beyond reason at the thought of Wendy being violated by Hook. As he struggled to rise to his feet, Hook lifted his leg and placed the toe of his boot on Peter's chest, kicking him violently and sending Peter sprawling, unable to save himself with his hands bound. The watching pirates all laughed uproariously, hooting and whistling, encouraging Hook who circled his enemy with a grin lightning his saturnine features.

"I have waited many years for this opportunity...to have Peter Pan at my mercy, a rich revenge for this!" Hook held up his missing hand, the gleaming double hook flashing in the sunlight. "And the many other wrongs done to me over the years, not least of which was sending me to my doom in the jaws of that infernal crocodile." A kick followed Hook accusations and Peter bit his lip hard to stifle a cry as the blow caught him in the ribs. "I want you to suffer as I suffered," Hook continued, pacing around his captive like a hyena around its prey. "It took every last breath I had before I could slice the beast open and free myself. Even then it tried to drag me down to Davey Jones Locker, only the force of my will, to be revenged on you, kept me from drowning." Hook swiveled on his heel, Peter flinching away from the black boots as they came close to his head. "Now I have you...maybe not old and certainly not alone," his eyes flicked briefly over to Wendy's prone body still clasped in Grants arms. "But most definitely done for!" His eyes glittering redly, Hook suddenly knelt down and punched Peter in the face, knocking the young man insensible as his head snapped back from the force of the blow. Straightening up, Hook stared down at Peter and curled his lip in satisfaction.

"Put the brat over your shoulder Duncan...we head back to the Jolly Roger at once. The rest of you swabs go back and pack up the camp and follow at the double! Grant...bring the wench."

Within minutes the trampled clearing contained only Hook, his two henchmen and their unconscious captives, the crew having gone to carry out their Captain's orders. The burly sailor called Duncan heaved Peter up and onto his broad shoulder with little or no effort, as if his burden had been no heavier than a feather. Grant stood waiting for his orders as Hook paced the jungle glade between the two men.

"I want two men guarding him when he comes around, make it clear Duncan 'tis death to anyone who aids him or allows him to escape, is that clear?"

The pirate nodded, shifting his burden to a more comfortable position on his shoulder. The pendant around Peter's neck suddenly swung free, having been caught on a thread inside Peter's shirt until that moment. Seeing the chain, Hook snagged it on his finger and lifted it clear of Peter's head. Dangling it in front of his face, Hook smiled.

"Her precious acorn, memento of her first visit to these fair shores. Mine now I think." Bundling the chain and acorn in his hand he slipped it into a pocket of his frogged coat. "Let's be on our way gentlemen, the Jolly Roger awaits."

Taking the path already flattened by his men on their way back to camp, Hook led his two henchmen through the jungle, heading back towards the coast and the hidden cove sheltering his ship.

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Wendy opened her eyes and stared up at the leafy canopy passing over her head, shielding her from the sun. She appeared to be in a canvas hammock of some sort, suspended from a pole which was being carried by two men across their shoulders. An almost transparent muslin cloth had been thrown over the pole and draped over the hammock on either side. The whole thing swayed gently from side to side like a swing accompanied by the grunt and puffs of the laboring men and the crunch of their boots on the trail. Bemused, Wendy tried to remember how she came to be there, her brow wrinkling as she endeavored to recall her last memory before waking. As she raised a hand to rub at her forehead, an image suddenly flashed into her mind and she felt a cold shiver shake her from head to toe.

"She be awake Captain!" One of the porters bellowed, the hammock ceasing its swaying motion as the men halted, Wendy still suspended between them. An all too familiar figure appeared beside the palanquin and lifted the sheltering cloth with his gleaming hook.

"Awake at last m'dear. I'd be obliged if you'd stay where you are for the time being, so much more comfortable than tramping through these accursed jungles don'tcha think?"

Bewildered by his urbane attitude, Wendy could only stare up at Hook like a butterfly pinned on a board. Taking her silence for compliance, Hook dropped the muslin cloth and signaled the men to start walking again, Hook remaining at her side as they traveled.

Wendy swallowed on a dry throat and ventured to speak.

"Wh-a-at have you done with Peter?"

Hook smiled down at her and waved his hand airily. "Oh the lad is about here somewhere."

"Is he alive?"

Hook pretended to be shocked, his eyes opening wide as he returned her frightened gaze. "Do you take me for a monster? The lad is in fine fettle, or he was when I last saw him. Of course that situation could alter if I find myself having to chase after you because you thought it would be fun to escape me?"

Wendy nodded her understanding of his veiled threat against Peter, averting her eyes to stare down at her nervously twisting fingers. Hook smiled, quite sure that Wendy was not about to try anything with her lover still his secure prisoner. Girls were so predictable.

He walked beside her for a few steps before speaking again. "I have something of yours." He waited for Wendy to turn her eyes to his once more. Slowly he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the length of gold chain with the acorn still attached. "Yours I believe?"

"It is mine," Wendy informed him. Lifting up the thin curtain between them, she held out her hand. "Can I have it back?"

Smiling, Hook dangled it above her palm but suddenly snatched it away, dropping the pendant back into his pocket. "I think not. You see I know how important that small trifle is, in the grand scheme of things."

Wendy pulled her hand back inside, disappointed but not surprised that Hook had kept the acorn. "What grand scheme?"

Hook wagged his finger at her and grinned. "Come dear Wendy, do you take me for a fool?" He reached inside his coat and pulled out the book, Wendy's audible gasp confirming his assumptions. "You know what this is, it came from your very own bedroom after all."

"You stole it!"

"Of course." Hook smirked.

Wendy turned her face away, fighting the well of tears that threatened to fall, desperate not to let her enemy see them.

"Sulking m'dear? Never mind, we'll have plenty of time to get to know each other again when we're aboard the Jolly Roger."

Wendy's head snapped back and she gaped at Hook.

"What makes you think I'd be remotely interested in getting to know you? I am your prisoner, not your guest!"

"But you have to admit, you're not being treated like a prisoner are you? I know about the prophecy, it's all written in here." He tapped the book with his hook. "But it doesn't stipulate who the two have to be, so I'm thinking, why not you and me. We could rule Neverland together, you and I."

"You're mad!" Wendy exclaimed, too shocked to be prudent.

"Why mad?" Hook looked surprised at her outburst.

"You are the evil we have to keep the Oracle away from!"

"Evil? I would hardly regard myself as evil." Hook appeared to consider the prospect. "A rogue maybe, a bastard to be sure, even diabolical when my temper is roused, but evil? I think not, certainly no more so than any other of my breed."

"You are a pirate." Wendy stated, as if that said all that needed to be said.

"Yes but is piracy not a necessary evil?" Hook retorted smoothly, raising an eyebrow.

"I beg your pardon?" Wendy was having trouble grasping that this was actually taking place, her conversation with Hook bordering on the ludicrous.

"Granted m'dear of course. But talking about piracy, if you didn't have pirates, there could hardly be any excuse for having Peter Pan, now would there? Of course he has rather grown out of running around half naked with a bunch of grubby brats, but without me Peter Pan would be nothing more than a savage climbing trees and getting into mischief with the natives."

"You are mad." Wendy stated faintly again, her remark ignored by her genial goaler.

"I am here to give Peter a purpose, don't ya see. What would Neverland be without James Hook? Just as what would Peter Pan be without his Wendy?"

Amused by his own warped logic Hook laughed loudly at himself. His men, those close enough to have followed the conversation, laughing along with their Captain.

Wendy lay in her swaying hammock and despaired. If Hook truly believed that he could be the one named in the prophecy, then what hope was there for Peter or herself?

Having grown tired of their discourse, Hook sauntered ahead and left Wendy with much to think about, the motion of the hammock and the increasing heat making her drowsy until she slipped into a deep sleep populated with strange dreams of herself being crowned queen and Peter reaching for her with hooks instead of hands.

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Peter watched Hook pass by Wendy and march to the front of the line of pirates. He longed to know what the wretch has been speaking to her about, his position too distant to hear anything of their conversation. When Hook laughed along with the pirates around him, Peter ground his teeth, sure that Hook had insulted his Wendy. A hard prod between his shoulder blades prompted him to start walking again as the line surged ahead once more, winding its way through the thick jungle along a well marked trail.

A few hours earlier Peter had recovered from Hook's blow within minutes of it being struck, his head ringing more from being held upside down over a burly pirates shoulder than the actual punch. He'd squirmed and the man had quickly dropped Peter to the ground, grasping Peter's arm in an iron grip to prevent him falling over as he fought a wave of dizziness from being so suddenly upended.

Blinking, Peter tried to get his eyes to focus, his head twisting to find where they'd taken Wendy. "Where is she? What have you done with her?"

His guard lifted a thick arm and pointed past the heads of the men in front and Peter craned his neck, seeing two men carrying something on a pole between them.

"Move!" A tug on his arm propelled him forward and he started to walk, still a trifle lightheaded but clearing with each step and deep breath of the humid air.

His body ached from its pummelling by the pirates, his lip quite swollen and a bruise swelling on his cheek from Hooks cowardly blow which had knocked him senseless. The man assigned to guard him was a taciturn individual with a chest as broad as a barrel and a face that would curdle milk. Peter tried to engage the man in conversation but received no answers to his questions, giving up after a few minutes when his goaler decided to curb his tongue with a back handed cuff that left him seeing stars.

Peter was glad that Hook was taking due care of Wendy, but he feared for their future, the odds stacked unfavorably against them. Hook seemed to have brought most of his crew with him on this sortie, all the men heavily armed and probably the hardiest fighters in the ships company. Even if the men on the Nymph knew where Peter and Wendy were, they'd be hard pressed to wrest them away from Hook with this force of pirates to fight. Sweat trickled down his face and Peter looked up at the trees lining the trail, the heat rising from the ground and beating on his head seeming to increase as the morning slipped into the afternoon. He longed to ask for a drink but gritted his teeth instead, not prepared to show any weakness.

Hook finally called a halt as the sun started to dip, the shadows offering a welcome coolness after the scorching heat. Peter dropped to the ground on legs that felt rubbery, his lungs heaving to draw in the humid air. He tried to see where the men took Wendy but there were too many bodies between them and he could only hope she was getting better treatment than him. His guard sat beside him and took a long pull from his water bottle, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, never once offering the bottle to Peter.

Exhausted, Peter slipped into a doze, the feeling long gone from his bound hands, his arms aching continuously from being pulled behind his back. With his head almost touching the ground as he bent over his knees, he didn't see Hook approach. Suddenly his hair was gripped by long fingers and his head jerked up and tilted so that Hook could see his face.

"Tired are we Pan?"

"No." Peter feigned indifference but had difficulty focusing on Hook's face, the man's features blurring and fading from Peter's vision.

"Has he had anything to eat or drink?" Hook addressed Duncan, his hand still holding Peter's head by his hair.

Duncan shrugged and shook his head. For a long moment Hook stared down into Peter's face, his pale eyes roaming over his captives bruised features, meeting Peter's defiant gaze, green clashing with blue in a battle of wills.

"Still fighting I see." He released Peter's hair and watched as the young man flopped forward, exposing his bound hands which looked swollen and bloody. "Re-tie these ropes Duncan, I don't want him to lose his hands...yet. Then get some water into him and food, we still have some way to go and I don't think you'd fancy carrying the scrape-grace all the way back to the Jolly Roger."

Stalking away, Hook left his battered foe to the tender mercies of his henchman. Duncan pulled Peter upright so that he was kneeling, giving the pirate access to the rope tied around his wrists. Peter tried to endure the pain of having the ropes removed, but the returning feeling in his hands was excruciating and he cried out when the man pulled the rough rope from around his skin. Seeing the torn and bloody flesh, the pirate called one of the other men over and gave him a muttered instruction. While Peter writhed from the pain in his arms and hands, Duncan rummaged in the trunk he'd requested, pulling out several lengths of cloth and jars of ointment to treat Peter's wrists.

With surprising gentleness Duncan silently dressed Peter's hands, wrapping them in strips of cloth after smearing ointment on the torn skin, Peter watching the process with gritted teeth against the pain, his eyes meeting and holdings the pirates gaze for a few seconds before the man finished the last bandage and sat back on his heels.

"I have to rebind ya hands." Duncan growled, picking up the length of rope and running his fingers down it.

Mutely Peter held his hands out, wincing as his shoulders protested being pulled behind his back again. Once more, with un-looked-for gentleness, Duncan re-tied Peter's wrists, the rope no longer so tight that it chafed, but knotted securely for all that. His prisoner secured, Duncan then held the bottle of water to Peter's swollen lips, keeping it there while the young man drank his fill, gulping the cool liquid thirstily before twisting his head away. All around them the pirate hoard were preparing to make camp for the night, tents popping up like mushrooms under the trees, a fire bursting into life despite the sun being not yet below the horizon.

"Eat." Peter opened his mouth as ordered and savored the course bread shoved between his teeth. Chewing was painful but he relished the morsel, swallowing it quickly when his guard offered him more.

"Feedin' the Capt'n's Pet are we?" A pirate jeered from nearby, Peter ignoring the taunt as he accepted another morsel of food from Duncan's fingers.

"Followin' Captain's orders, so bugger off Chaz."

"Never thought I'd see the day tha' Hook caught Peter Pan so easy. And that girly of 'is...a pretty piece for sure."

"Get about ya business Chaz." Duncan warned the man, popping the last of the bread into Peters mouth before dusting his hands off and getting to his feet. "This be my prisoner and you ain't 'aving a piece of him."

"Better take care the pet doesn't do a runner then, cos if'n he does, your 'ed will be for the chop!" Giving Duncan a crude gesture, Chaz finally left them alone. "Stupid bastard!" Duncan muttered before resuming his place beside Peter.

With his thirst and hunger taken care of, and the worst of his injuries tended, Peter lay on his side, his legs drawn up and tried to sleep, weariness stealing over him and sending him quickly into oblivion despite the noise of the pirates setting up camp around him. Duncan, noting that his prisoner was once more unconscious, stolidly pulled out a knife and started digging at his own filthy fingernails.

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Wendy was jolted awake when the men stopped on Hook's order. She accepted Hook's hand to help her out of the hammock, her legs not wanting to support her as she struggled against the dizziness making her sway.

"Steady as she goes now." Hook admonished her, keeping an arm about her as he lowered her to the ground. "Sit here while I organize the men."

Hook remained standing beside her, his voice barking out orders, his men hurrying to obey. A tent was quickly erected, more ornate than the others, and Hook signaled for his second in command to approach.

"Miss Darling will need a change of clothes and water to bathe in." He looked down at Wendy's bent head. "Sorry we can't stretch to a full bath, but I'm sure that won't matter for now. You can manage, I'm sure, with a bucket and cloth?"

Wendy lifted her head and cast Hook a weary glance. "I can manage."

"See to it Grant. Let me know the moment the tent is ready."

"Yes Captain." Grant gave Hook a small bow and hurried away, shouting orders to the men.

From her position at the side of the trail she tried to spot Peter, keeping her movements as unobtrusive as possible, her eyes searching for any sign of him.

"Ready when you are Captain sir." Grant's voice made her jump and she stared up at the man.

"Good work, bring him here in about an hour."

"Aye sir."

Once more Hook helped Wendy to her feet, keeping his hand curled around her arm as he all but dragged her across to the ornately decorated tent and pushed her inside.

"There's water and towels behind the screen, and a change of clothes. Tidy yourself and meet me out here." Hook ordered. Wendy remained where she was and glared at him.

"I don't think so."

Hook had been pouring himself a glass of madeira at a small side table. He paused fractionally then continued what he was doing. "You look as if you've been to hell and back. I'm offering you a chance to wash off the dust and grime of your ordeal and dress in something other than the dirty rags currently on your back."

"And I want nothing from you."

Hook lifted the glass to his lips and took a drink, the gold liquid sliding down his throat with a welcome burn. "Be that as it may, you will do as I say or I will instruct Grant to come in here and undress you, bathe you and redress you without the benefit of privacy."

"You are a monster!"

"I take it you would prefer to take care of yourself?"

Closing her eyes briefly, Wendy nodded, her lips pressed together in a thin line. Hook downed the last of his madeira and placed the glass back on the table. "The tent is surrounded by my men, so don't even think of making your escape under the canvass, it would only mean an undignified scuffle and you being returned to me with a new collection of bruises to show for your efforts."

"Why are you doing this?" Wendy cried out, fear making her voice harsh.

Hook looked over at her and raised a dark eyebrow. "I am only trying to make your stay as pleasant as possible...you are my guest, and I expect my guests to be clean before they sit down to eat with me."

"By threatening them with force?"

"The choice is yours m'dear..." He smiled, waving his hand in dismissal and sitting down on a small chair, crossing one leg over the other in the casual manner of a man completely at his ease.

For a moment Wendy stood irresolute, biting her lip as she considered her options. She could resist and call his bluff, but a tiny voice cautioned her against testing Hook's resolve, her knowledge of the man too sketchy to accurately judge if he would carry out his threats. All she really knew for sure was that he was capable of great cruelty and not adverse to using manipulation to attain his ends.

Bowing her head she turned and headed for the screen set up in the corner, ignoring the smirk painting Hook's lips as she slipped behind the painted canvas and prepared to wash the grime of the past few days away.

Thirty minutes later she emerged from the behind the screen transformed. The dress provided was a far cry from her usual blouse and skirt combination that covered most of her body from neck to ankle. The confection she was currently wearing was more suited for the ballroom than the jungle and she couldn't help feeling grossly overexposed as she sidled further into the room. Hook watched her pluck nervously at the taffeta skirt with an appreciative eye, the nip-waisted style accentuating Wendy's youthful curves with a ribbon drawing the eye to her shapely bosom and then down to her slender waist. Her arms were bare, the sleeves mere puffs of organza that drifted over the tops of her shoulders, the skirt draping over her hips and down to her feet, a little over long but clinging to her legs without petticoats to push them out. The pale blue slip with its filmy over gauze made her skin look even paler than usual and made her eyes appear as blue as sapphires in the diffuse light of the tent. Her hair had also been brushed ruthlessly into order, the light brown tresses hanging loose almost to the small of her back.

"A prime turnout!" Hook exclaimed, indicating with one finger for her to turn around. Wendy stood stock still and refused the silent request.  
"Still defiant, but I'll let it pass this time." Hook murmured, rising to his feet and indicating for his guest to seat herself in the other chair.

"I'd rather stand."

Hook narrowed his eyes but didn't make a comment, reseating himself and once more crossing his legs. He had shed his heavy brocade coat and sat in his shirt sleeves, long embroidered waistcoat and breeches. The dark blue silk of his shirt and sapphire velvet of his waistcoat and trousers a nice accompaniment to Wendy's pale blue dress.

"We make a pretty pair, don'tcha think?" He didn't wait for her to answer but instead lifted a silver bell off the table and rang it twice before putting it down. "As you are now suitably refreshed, I think we can eat."

The canvas wall of the tent was pulled back half way and Hook's henchman, Grant appeared, waving in several of the crew who all carried plates and bowls of food, one also carrying a tray with a jug and goblets which were all placed on trestles pulled into the center of the tent while Hook looked on, Wendy backing away until she came up against the wall of the tent. The men set up the tables as quickly as possible, then were ushered out, but not before they had all ogled Wendy, her face burning from their bold, knowing looks. Grant remained behind and looked to Hook for further orders. His Captain rose to his feet and pulled his chair over to the trestle, then the other chair which he placed beside his own, holding it out courteously, waiting for Wendy to join him.

"I'm not hungry." Wendy avowed, meeting his narrowed eyes with a defiant stare and an obstinately raised chin. Hook let go a long suffering sigh and crooked a finger at Grant. The pirate immediately walked around to where Wendy stood and carefully, but forcefully dragged her to the table and sat her down, standing behind her chair to obviate any attempts to get up again.

Infuriated, Wendy glared at Grant before turning and staring stonily across the trestle at the wall opposite.

Hook ignored her and poured water into the two goblets.

"You must be thirsty...drink."

Apart from a tightening of the lines around her mouth, Wendy didn't move or indicate that she had heard him.

"This becomes tedious. Bring him in Grant and let's see if our guest can be persuaded to cooperate."

Wendy's eyes flickered to Hook momentarily before watching Grant move across to the tents opening and look out, beckoning to someone outside. She could hear a commotion as if the men were wrestling just beyond the tent and then the flap was pulled back fully and she saw the men manhandling their captive, pitching him forward so that he sprawled face down into the ground at Grant's feet.

"Peter!" Wendy had surged to her feet on seeing him, her face chalk white as she moved to go to him. In a flash Hook had fastened his fingers about her wrist and held her still, her frantic twisting not dislodging his grip one iota as Grant hauled Peter to his knees.

"Oh Peter!" Wendy moaned, seeing the bruises and blood marring his face and body, her eyes filling with tears as she strained to release her arm from Hook's grip.

"Wendy!" Peter's cry of relief at seeing her unharmed turned to pain as Grant fixed a painful grip on his hair to force his head back.

"Oh stop, stop you're hurting him...please...please let him go!" She turned to her tormentor and fixed her tearful gaze on him, begging him to release her. "Anything, I'll do whatever you say, just stop hurting him."

"Do as the Lady says Grant, let Pan go." Hook purred, still maintaining his bruising grip on her wrist as his henchmen let Peter's hair go and stood back, his captive slumping forward in relief.

"Oh Peter!" Wendy whispered, the tears flowing down her face as she continued to twist her arm in a vain attempt to free herself from Hook's grasp.

"Now, I believe I asked if you would like a drink..." Hook drawled, yanking downward and forcing Wendy back into her seat. He could feel the tremors shaking her slender frame as she stared at Peter's down bent head, tears still sliding down her face.

"W-w-what?" Wendy asked bewildered, turning to face him again.

He released her wrist and held out a goblet to her, but she shook her head emphatically. Putting it down he raised his hand and Grant once more hauled Peter upright by his hair, Peter's face contorted with the effort of not crying out, his teeth bared as he denied Hook the satisfaction of hearing him in pain. Wendy wasn't so strong and she whimpered in agony, wanting desperately to go to him.

"Are you thirsty now Wendy?" Hook once more held up the goblet and this time Wendy understood, snatching it from his hand and tipping it shakily to her mouth. Hook smiled.

Grant released his captive and Peter once more slumped forward, his breath hissing between his teeth as his discomfort receded.

"I think we understand the rules of this little game now." Hook speared a slice of meat on his hook and held it out to Wendy, who hesitated only a fraction before holding out her plate for Hook to fill.

The meal seemed interminably to Wendy, the food dust in her mouth, but she didn't give Hook cause to torment Peter again, her body responding to Hook's commands like a puppet, accepting the food and drink as if pulled by strings but her eyes always on the figure kneeling on the ground in front of them. At last Hook was done and signaled for Grant to have the table cleared. With the food gone and the trestles pushed to the side, Wendy could only sit with her nerves stretched taut and wait for Hook's next move. Except for when he'd first been brought in, Peter hadn't raised his head or looked at Wendy again, his body bowed and bound, helpless before his enemy.

Hook alternated his glance between Wendy's strained face and stiff demeanor and Peter's apparently abject submission, his eyes glacial as they swept over the young man's ragged appearance. Night had drawn in outside the tent and braziers lit along with several candles to provide illumination inside.

"Well now, what do you suggest I do with him?"

Wendy jumped and turned to stare at Hook. "Do with him?"

"I was thinking I should have a cage built and placed prominently somewhere on the ship, then I can gloat to my hearts content and you could be sure to see him everyday...would you like that?"

"You are despicable...let him go."

"M'dear you ask too much."

"You have me...you have the book, the acorn pendant..you don't need Peter, let him go."

"And have him come after me blood the minute he's out of me sight?...No, can't be done."

"If I was..." Wendy faltered, then started again. "If I..was to promise I would stay with you..voluntarily and not try to escape...would you let him go?"

"What are you suggesting? You are already my guest...what makes you think you have anything to bargain with?"

"I-I..." Wendy stammered, her mouth dry as dust as she contemplated exactly what she was intending to do. Before she could answer Hook a movement drew her attention to the figure which had remained silent and still throughout the meal. Peter was getting to his feet, albeit with difficulty. Grant made a move to stop him but Hook signaled for his henchman to stand back.

Peter managed to get to his feet and stood with his legs braced apart, his head up and tilted arrogantly, green eyes blazing. Briefly he washed his gaze over Wendy and she felt scorched by the contempt blazing from him before his eyes turned to Hook.

"She has nothing to bargain with, and no right to make false promises. I don't let go of what is mine and make no mistake, I intend to hold on to her despite her treachery."

Wendy felt the blood drain from her body. Peter thought she was here with Hook willingly, that she had betrayed him for a meal and clean clothes. Feeling sick she stared down at her hands laying limp in her lap.

Hook stared at Peter and then laughed, slapping his knee with his hand and banging on the side table with his hook.

"Oh a merry jest...you intend to hold her...with what?" Hook snarled, the laughter dying away to be replaced with a cold anger. "You are in no position to dictate anything...boy!"

Wendy sat as if carved from stone, Peter and Hook not sparing her a glance. A gust of wind buffeted the canvas wall beside her and she flinched. Grant still stood, his arm crossed, just inside the opening of the tent, his eyes flickering to the peaked ceiling and the walls as the wind outside seemed to pick up. Hook and Peter continued to glare balefully at each other, oblivious to anything beyond their battle of wills.

"You think you can best me boy? You are too old to fly and too young to be taken seriously. If I choose to fulfill the prophecy there is nothing you can do to stop me."

"You don't have the Oracle and you don't have the thimble...without those, the prophecy will be nothing more than an empty riddle."

"Too true...but you do have them, or know where they are and for the price of her safety, you will part with them willingly...or I will have to use stronger forms of persuasion on you..." Hook suddenly looked sly, "...or maybe I'll just inflict them on her!" He grinned malevolently. "How long would you hold out if you had to watch her being tortured Pan?"

"Touch one hair on her head and you'll die at my hands Hook!"

The wind outside was now screaming around the tent, the canvas snapping back and forth and straining the guy ropes, shuddering with each slam of the wind against its side. Peter and Hook remained oblivious, but Wendy and Hook's henchman stared at the walls of the tent with apprehension. In the distance Wendy could hear a growling sound as if a thousand lions were roaring their defiance and she started up out of her chair. Grant also heard the sound and stepped forward.

"Captain sir...outside...something is happening!"

The growling noise was rising to a scream and Hook suddenly rose to his feet, his verbal sparring with Peter forgotten in the face of an unknown threat.

"See what it is Grant," he ordered, lashing out without warning and backhanding Peter who staggered and fell to one knee. Wendy instantly ran forward and dropped to the ground beside him, her arms surrounding Peter as he swayed, dazed by Hook's blow.

As she steadied him he raised his head and stared at her. Blood trickled from the freshly split lip and she dabbed at it with a cloth napkin she been holding clenched in her hand without realizing it.

The screaming wind was still rising, battering the tent walls and making the poles sway, several of the guy ropes snapping with a loud twang and making the tent sag alarmingly. Wendy held Peter's face between her hands and saw him close his eyes, a line forming between his brows as he concentrated fiercely, a muscle in his cheek twitching as he clenched his jaw.

Hook was standing at the entrance to the tent and staring out in disbelief at the chaos being wrought among his men as a tornado twisted its way towards them, the trees either side whipping back and forth in the gale, tents, belongings and men flying up into the air. Grant had run back to Hook and now stood beside his Captain dumbstruck with horror at the carnage being wreaked on the trail by a force of nature never seen before. Lightning flashed and both men flinched, their arms raised to shield their eyes from the intense light.

Taking advantage of their captors distraction, Wendy fumbled to free the ropes confining Peter's hands behind his back. She sobbed as she wrestled with the knots, her fingers shaking so badly she almost cried out with frustration. Peter made no sound as she worked, all his senses focused on the storm outside, his body thrumming with energy as if infused with the wild fury bearing down on them. By now the wind had extinguished all the candles and braziers and the tent was plunged into a maelstrom of lightning and noise, Peter and Wendy abandoned to their fate by Hook and his men, the tent only held to the ground by a few guy ropes, the canvas walls flapping uselessly.

Finally Wendy freed his hands and Peter slowly drew them in front of his body, his shoulders screaming in pain as he flexed his fingers and stared down as the bandages covering his wrists. Slowly he rose up, his hands hanging at his sides, his head tilted as if listening for something despite the deafening cacophony from outside. Wendy stood beside him but didn't touch him, her body shaking with cold and apprehension, unsure whether to flee or stay put and trust Peter to keep her safe. As she cowered, the tent was suddenly ripped from its tenuous moorings and whirled up into the sky, all its contents, bar the two people at its center, whisked away and smashed, scattered like the rest of the pirate camp. The tornado was now directly upon them and Wendy had to hide her face from the flying dust, her skirts lashing her legs and making her stagger. Peter's hand reached out and drew her close, the wind swirling around them but somehow not battering them with its full force as if they stood in a protected bubble, everything else around them feeling the full force of the storm and being swept away in a maelstrom of destruction.

"It won't hurt us Wendy...look up, it's beautiful."

Peter's quiet voice drew Wendy's head from its place against his shoulder. She stared upwards and gasped at the marvel above them. The tornado was directly overhead and swirling in a long funnel reaching up towards the stars. The walls of the wind storm swayed and undulated, weaving back and forth as it strived to maintain its funnel shape, debris and dust swirled madly about its fringes. At the bottom stood Wendy and Peter, both staring up into the heart of the tornado, Wendy's hair blinding her as it writhed around her head in the gyrating wind currents.

Peter's face held a look of intense satisfaction, a crooked grin stretching his swollen and bloody lips. Wendy clung to him and shivered, fearful of the forces unleashed around her. Of Hook and his crew there was no sign, all evidence of their existence wiped from the trail, their bodies and belongings blown into the jungle, hammered and terrorized by a force of nature never experienced before.

Peter started to move, walking slowly forward with Wendy at his side, the storm somehow moving with them, swirling over their heads and still wreaking havoc on the ground around them , but not at its heart which maintained a strange calm. Carefully they picked their way over the littered ground, moving within the storm and leaving the pirates and their destroyed camp further and further behind.

Step by step they made their way through the jungle, the tornado starting to lessen its destructive force, the winds slowing and battering the trees less violently the more distance they traveled away from Hook.

When they were completely out of sight, the wind abruptly died and the silence seemed loud to Wendy's ears as they stood and glanced around. The jungle was as black and impenetrable as ever, the sky above their heads spangled with stars, a few remaining clouds drifting away even as they watched.

"Is it over?" Wendy whispered, her fingers clenching and unclenching on the remains of his shirt, her body still shaking with shock.

Peter let go a deep sigh, his formerly tense muscles relaxing as he let go of the feelings he'd needed to keep himself at a fever pitch of rage which created and fed the devastating storm. "It's over."

"H-how did you..." Wendy started but a finger on her lips silenced her.

"We need to get further away, we're still too close...come, I know somewhere we can hide until daylight."

Taking her hand he led them through the dense undergrowth following a path invisible to Wendy among the shadows. After a short trek they reached a clearing where a dilapidated hut leaned drunkenly to one side, its roof sprouting weeds and its door hanging brokenly on rusted hinges. It looked vaguely familiar but Wendy was too exhausted to care and gratefully followed Peter inside to find the floor piled high with windblown leaves. She allowed herself to be pulled down onto a thick heap and quickly snuggled up against Peter's side, wrapping her arms around him as he did the same for her.

They lay there in surprising comfort and warmth, Peter's eyes sliding shut as the events of the day and night stole over him. He felt Wendy move and opened his eyes to find her leaning over him, her face in shadow.

"I didn't betray you Peter...I'm not a traitor."

"I know."

"Then why did you say those horrible thing?"

"I wanted Hook to concentrate on me, not you...so I pretended to hate you."

"Oh."

"I don't hate you Wendy."

"You don't?"

"No...not even close. I need to sleep now...I'm so tired." His voice slurred and his eyes closed again.

As he slipped the shackles of consciousness, he felt Wendy's lips meet his in a light kiss.

"I love you too, Peter Pan."

Smiling he let go of the conscious world and new nothing more.

Beside him, Wendy looked down at his relaxed face, the bruises marring his handsome features not lessening her love one whit. If anything they were badges of courage and she kissed each welt as lightly as a butterfly before settling down once more at his side and closing her eyes.

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TBC...


	14. Reunited

14/10/05 

Title: To Have and To Hold

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Fourteen - Reunited

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"How the dang blast it did you know to anchor here?"

"I didn't..." Stubbs voice, so annoyingly calm, set Harry's teeth on edge.

"Then how the blue blazes is this going to help us find them?"

"Ask the Captain, he's the boss, not me."

"I did."

Stubbs cocked a bushy eyebrow and waited for the good Doctor to elucidate. Harry huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Oh alright...he told me that the less I knew the better."

Stubbs chuckled. "And he's probably has the right of it."

"But it's been weeks..."

"Ten days to be exact."

"Pedantic bastard." Harry muttered.

"Eh?"

"Nothing."

The two friends leant casually on the rail, staring intently at the shore so tantalizingly close.

The Nymph was berthed in a cove with the unfortunate title, The Bone Yard because of the unusually high number of large ocean going mammals that washed up, leaving behind their huge bones to bleach on the rocks. The inlet was bordered by steep slopes covered in densely planted palms, their fronds waving in the stiff breeze currently raking all of Neverland, the balmy evening lightened by the full moon rising slowly into the heavens.

Both men stared at the sky above the island, noting the dark clouds scudding over the southern end near the base of the volcano. As they watched the clouds started to circle, forming a spiral and then a funnel, the sky now connected to the land by an unmistakable force of nature, a tornado.

"Will you look at that!" Harry exclaimed, pointing to the phenomenon forming in front of their eyes.

"I'll fetch the captain."

Harry remained by the rail while Stubbs hurried to the poop deck and dived through the door leading to the Captain's cabin.

Pushing open the door he spoke to the man leaning over the chart table.

"There's something you'll be wanting to see sir."

"I'll be right there, Mister Stubbs."

Back on the main deck the entire crew of the Nymph was gathered at the rail, all of them pointing and talking at once while the object of their attention grew in size and strength, the funnel now black beneath the clouds swirling at its head. Stubbs shouldered his way through the crowd to where Harry stood, clearing a space for the Captain to see what all the fuss was about.

"How long?" The Captain asked, extending his telescope and putting it up to his eye.

"Just minutes." Stubbs answered, wincing when a large flash of lightning lit up the clouds, another following closely as the sky continued to darken while the moon remained clear as it ascended above the horizon.

"I'd say our young friend is in a spot of bother Mister Stubbs."

"I'd have to agree sir."

As they watched the funnel of the tornado moved slowly along, debris flying up behind it as it cut a swathe through the jungle.

"Doesn't do things by halves does he?" The Captain observed, lowering the telescope and exchanging a rueful glance with his first mate.

"Always was impetuous, but it tells us that Hook has been busy and we must be on our guard when we get them back."

"You think he had help?"

"I'd bet my medallion he has...most likely Peter turned down the Keeper."

"I wouldn't be surprised." Stubbs remarked laconically. "We should have prepared him better."

"It wasn't allowed...you know the rules. He had to make the decision on his own."

"And now?"

"Now he's not alone, now he can be all he is destined to be."

Stubbs snorted. "Your as bad as the Oracle with your cryptic riddles."

"Sorry..." Grinning and unrepentant Captain Aramis, formerly known to Wendy as Arnold Bennett of Bennetts Bookshop, collapsed his telescope and handed it to his first mate. "I guess we can take that as Peter's signal that he needs our help."

"If Peter is creating that he must be in a rage. I almost pity Hook."

"I don't...Hook must have done something pretty bad to get Peter this worked up. We need to find them soon, tonight preferably."

"How do we know where to look?"

"Get a man up the mast to take a bearing on that." Aramis pointed to the tornado that was still tearing up a strip of Neverlands lush jungle. "And quickly, Peter won't be able to maintain a force that strong for long."

Aramis remained by the rail while Stubbs organized a man up the mast. As they watched from the rail the tornado started to lose its density, the clouds above starting to drift away until the funnel detached itself from the ground and drifted upwards, dissipating into the air until nothing existed to show where it had been.

Aramis shaded his eyes and stared up the mast. "Did you get the bearing?"

"Aye aye Captain."

"Good man. Organize the crew Mister Stubbs, we leave immediately."

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Hook stood and stared at the remnants of his crew slowly gathering amongst the tattered debris that was all that was left of their camp.

"Odd's wounds but I'll have his eyes for this!"

His first mate lifted a hand and swiped at a persistent trickle of blood that snaked it's way from a gory head wound.

"Do we search for him?"

"When the sun comes up...we'll never find him in the dark."

They surveyed the wreckage around them.

"Get the wounded seen to and settled for what's left of the night. I imagine that every creature and man on Neverland is aware of what just happened. His crew won't be far away and we don't stand a chance against them with all our supplies destroyed."

"Aye sir."

"I still have what he wants Grant...he'll have to face me again to get them back."

"Aye sir, that he will."

"Next time I won't be so lenient...with either of them."

"As you say sir."

Hook waved his henchman away, watching as he organized the men to take care of those injured by the storm.

"Next time, Peter Pan...next time." Hook muttered, turning to stalk away. Abruptly he pulled up short as a smoky apparition appeared in front of him, its outline quickly coalescing as the Keeper completed his journey from the Never Realm.

"You lost him." The Keeper rasped, his grey robes swirling around Hook like a damp mist.

"Hardly...the brat called up a storm that the Titan's themselves would not've been able to withstand."

"Lame excuses!" The Keeper hissed, sweeping his hand in the air dismissively. Hook scowled.

"Next time you can capture the brat and his wench and see how long you can keep them!"

"You have the amulet?"

"The acorn...yes...but as Pan rightly pointed out, both it and the book are useless without the Oracle and the thimble."

"Both will be within your reach very soon. His ship is berthed in the Bone Yard and lightly guarded."

"How do you know this?"

"They saw the storm and will be here soon to collect the Pan and his wench...you can take advantage of this and seize the Oracle and the other pendant."

"And then? They are useless without either Pan or the girl to bring the prophecy to fruition."

"One obstacle at a time...with all the artifacts in your grasp, the Pan will be forced to either face you or surrender the girl...all can still be yours!"

"And what do you get out of this black bargain? You led us to Bart, who led them to me...what reward is yours once the prophecy is fulfilled?"

"Unlike Black hearted Bart, I intend to enjoy what is to come...I was banished to the Never Realm for crimes I didn't commit and forced to bide my time until the future King of Neverland was ready to be invested. That time is now and I intend to take my rightful place as Prime Consul to the King, whether it be you or him."

"A true mercenary," Hook chuckled, "A creature after my own heart!"

"As you say...soon all the wealth of Neverland will be yours, all creatures your subjects and the power that comes from being King of this world and others."

"You almost convince me Keeper...almost." Hook sneered at the grey apparition, swiping the smoking robes with his hook to watch them part and reform.

"You have long wanted to revenge yourself on the Pan...this is your final opportunity...don't sneer at the one who would make it all possible."

"I wonder why you make it possible at all?" Hook asked, one dark eyebrow raised imperiously.

"He rejected his Kingship...he is not worthy to rule, either this realm or the next. You are strong and powerful in your own right, a worthy despot to rule the three worlds."

"What of the other inhabitants of this island?"

"They will have no choice but to give obeyance to your will once you are ruler."

"You make a pretty argument Keeper..."

"Rouse your men, you have a chance to take the Nymph by surprise."

"If I rouse them now I'll have a mutiny to contend with...we'll move in the morning."

"But..."

"Enough...I weary of talk. Take yourself back to wherever you come from, I need to sleep."

Turning his back Hook ignored the Keeper and watched his men rebuilding the fires and salvaging what they could find from the debris. When he glanced back over his shoulder the Keeper was gone.

"Ruler of the three worlds...King of Neverland...Hah!"

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Peter lay staring up at the roof of their shelter, his mind turning over what had happened the night before. Wendy slumbered at his side, her soft breathing washing over him, adding to the birds warming up to their dawn chorus outside the hut.

He felt different, as if something had been wrenched open inside him, a door that had been only opened a crack before, but was now busted wide open, never to be shut again. He remembered when he thought Tink had died, his despair and pain, his heart like a stone in his chest. Then it had snowed, his fear and loss plunging Neverland into a premature winter that echoed his frozen heart as he mourned Tink. The words had suddenly popped into his head as he wept, the word begging to be spoken aloud, echoing in his head until he started to speak, then they tumbled out over and over as he shouted them to the sky, pleading for the return of his fairy friend, a joy filling him as he chanted the words, a faint echo from far away heard above the roar of the wind and snow. Tink had revived and she'd told him of Hook's plans, instilling in him a fierce desire for revenge. During his fight above the Jolly Roger he had felt invulnerable, but Hook was too canny and had known exactly what would pierce Peter's confidence, erode his bravado and bring him down. It had worked even better than Hook could ever have known. Peter had had no defense against the unwanted truth of Hook's words, of his cruel premonitions of Wendy's life without Peter in it. Later, laying on the hard deck Peter had already given up, accepted that his life was about to end, his mind numb with Hook's hideous taunts and supreme confidence. It had taken Wendy's gift of love to restore his life to him, her kiss infusing him with hope and a bright energy that sent Hook flying into the rigging and his crew over the railing to the sea below. That same energy was what he'd called upon to raise the storm, but it had been much more than a single burst of exuberance followed by heart thumping bliss. This time he'd called on an energy that fed on his rage and pain, that needed him to maintain his rage to form and control the twisting force of nature to his bidding. It had been exhilarating and frightening and forced him to acknowledge that he was capable of something terrible if he ever let it loose. Afterwards the feeling had remained with him even into sleep, his body humming with currents of energy that made him twitch and jerk in the throws of his dreams. Now he lay calm but still felt something barely leashed inside him, an energy that longed to lash out and destroy, to break and crush, batter itself against an enemy and sweep them away, as he had done with Hook and his men.

It was terrifying and powerful and he knew he wanted to try it again. He almost wished Hook would attack them again, right now, just so he could summon the energy again, wiping Hook and his kind from the face of the world forever.

With such a power he could rule Neverland, could be ruler of everything and no-one could stand in his way.

It was a sobering and scary thought.

Wendy stirred against his side and he banished his disturbing musings to the back of him mind.

"Peter?" Her sleepy whisper made him smile.

"Good morning sweetness, sleep well?"

"Mmmmmmmmm." She snuggled into his side, content to doze.

"We still have a way to go today to reach safety."

"Safety?"

"Yes safety...the Nymph won't be far away and they'll be coming to get us soon, we can meet them on the trail."

Wendy lifted her head and blinked at him curiously.

"How can you know that?"

Peter gazed back at her steadily. "I'm not sure how, I just know."

"But..." Peter placed a finger on her lips, silencing her.

"I can't explain...something happened...something wonderful and now I can sense things."

"And this new...sense...it tells you the Nymph is near?"

"Yes."

"Oh. What else can you...sense?"

"That Hook and his men are long gone, they left at first light back to their ship. We won't be troubled by them."

"But he has the second book and now my acorn pendant as well...how are we to get those back?"

"Your supposing I want them back."

"Don't you?"

"As long as we keep the Oracle from him he can't do anything about the prophecy."

"I suppose so...but if we don't do anything, won't he just come after us? I don't really want to be forever looking over my shoulder to see if Hook is about to pounce."

"Neither do I...and I have the feeling you don't really want to make your home on board the Nymph either."

"I-I-I wouldn't really mind."

Peter shifted onto his side and propped his head on his hand, staring down at Wendy who was looking off to the side.

"You lie very badly."

Slowly Wendy lifted her eyes to his. "If that is our only choice, then I'll live aboard the Nymph. As long as you are there, what does it matter where?"

"It matters to you, and what matters to you, matters to me."

Wendy lifted her hand and trailed her fingers down his face, tracing the outline of his lips with one fingertip.

"You matter to me Peter." She lightly touched the scab covering the split marring his mouth. "I'd rather die than have you hurt again."

Smiling crookedly because of the painful tug of his split lip, Peter captured her fingers and pressed a kiss to their tips.

"Hook caught us by surprise...it won't happen again. I won't let it."

Responding to the teasing light in his eyes, Wendy smiled up at him. "You won't allow it? Is this one of your special senses telling you this? Maybe I should ask you what is to be our future, are you a fortune teller Peter?"

Like a chill breeze, the teasing light in his eyes died to be replaced by a flickering flame that made Wendy gasp. The flame was red.

"Peter?"

As quickly as it appeared, the flame was gone and Peter smiled ruefully. "No fortune teller, just a fool who wants to spend his days with you...forever."

"Oh Peter, you do say the loveliest things."

Banishing the spurt of fear as her imagination, Wendy pulled his head down to hers and bestowed a gentle kiss on his bruised lips, willing her love to heal him quickly. Peter wasn't so reticent, when she pulled back he followed, taking her mouth in a kiss that left her breathless and tingling all over, his lips moving over hers in total disregard for any discomfort to himself.

As the kiss deepened Peter felt the power inside him swell, urging him on, urging him to expend it someway. As he ravaged Wendy's mouth his hand roamed over her body and down her flank, stroking and smoothing as he bunched her skirts up her legs before positioning himself over her. Wendy felt him move, felt the coolness of air on her limbs but thought nothing of it, her need to get closer making her a willing accomplis to her own seduction, her body straining against his as he freed himself from his breeches and prepared to plunder her treasures. With little of no preparation he buried himself inside her heat, Wendy letting out a squeak of protest against his lips, the sound quickly changing to a moan as he moved against her, her legs wrapping around his hips to keep him close.

It was short, sweet and explosive, Peter reaching his peak quickly as the power inside him surged, his thrusts hard as he expended himself with a groan inside her. Wendy cried out as she held him close, absorbing his shaking body with murmured endearments and tender caresses, their mouths meeting again to exchange heated kisses and loving words until they lay panting, forehead to forehead in the aftermath.

Stroking her fingers through his disordered curls, Wendy licked her lips and tried to speak.

"Oh my...that was...unexpected."

Enjoying the feeling of her fingers raking over his head, Peter grunted and smiled. Seeing that smile, Wendy felt something bloom in the region of her heart, it made her feel desired and satisfied, loved and cherished, everything she'd ever wanted.

A shrill bird cry from outside intruded on the moment and made Peter suddenly pull away.

"There's someone outside!" He announced, rearranging his clothing and holding out a hand to help Wendy to her feet.

"Hook?"

"No...friends, not enemies."

He waited for her to sort out her rumpled dress, watching as she smoothed it in a attempt to make it less obvious she had just enjoyed a passionate tumble with her lover. She lifted her head and saw him watching her with a smirk plastered over his battered face.

"At least tell me if I have any leaves stuck in my hair." She reproved him, grimacing when he stepped forward and pulled several of the offending leaves from her tresses. "Better?" She asked.

"Better...but you still look well and truly loved."

"Oh I don't mind that...I am." She replied pertly and he laughed.

Together they walked out of the ramshackle hut and stood in the clearing. For a moment nothing moved and then a figure stepped out of the jungle followed by others.

"Mr.Bennett!"

"Captain Aramis!"

"Well met both of you, we got your message. Although a simple smoke signal would have sufficed." He grinned at the two young people, Wendy with her mouth inelegantly open and Peter staring at him with undisguised pleasure to see his old friend and mentor again.

Captain Aramis stepped forward and met Peter, both embracing the other with much shoulder patting and back thumping. Wendy stared in shocked surprise at the extravagantly attired man currently greeting Peter with as much joy as if Peter was his son. She had difficulty assimilating the kindly, bookish Mister Bennett of London with the rakishly handsome Captain before her. Their greetings over, both Peter and Aramis turned to face Wendy, similar wide grins plastered over both faces.

"Wendy let me introduce you..." Peter started but Wendy raised her hand and cut him off.

"I already know Captain Aramis...or is it Arnold Bennett? I hardly know what to call you."

"My dear Miss Darling...this must seem a little strange, I'm sure." Aramis gestured to himself but again Wendy halted any further comments by holding up both hands.

"This is not strange...what is strange is you said nothing about this, about Neverland, about Peter! Strange is finding out that what you thought was coincidence was in fact planned from the start...did I ever have a say in what my future would be? Did I ever have any power over my own destiny?"

"Wendy..." Peter started to say but Aramis laid a hand on his arm and stepped forward.

"You are right to feel angry with me. I should have said something, but it was not clear that you even remembered your experience as a girl, let alone wanted to hear anything about it when you were full grown."

"Were you ever planning on telling me about your association with all this?"

"Not unless you showed a desire to know." Aramis told her bluntly.

Wendy flushed, her angry gaze sweeping over the men standing before her. Stubbs and the Doctor stood at the edge of the clearing eyeing her warily. Peter and Aramis remained a foot or so away, also regarding her as if expecting her to explode at any moment.

"Has all I've been through, what we've been through just been a test of my loyalty? To find out if I'm suitable? A fitting mate for the once and future King of Neverland?"

Peter glanced at Aramis before stepping forward his hand outstretched.

"Wendy, it's not like that...was never like that..."

"How can I believe you..." she blinked to stop the tears forming in her eyes from falling. "What difference is there between you and Hook, except that he takes what he wants with honest force, while you get your way with trickery and lies...maybe he should be the one in the prophecy!"

"I say, that's a bit harsh m'dear..." Aramis replied, frowning at her.

"Wendy that's not the way I wanted it to be..." Peter tried to speak but Wendy was in no mood to listen.

"From the start you tried to trick me, not telling me your name, pretending to be someone else..what am I supposed to believe?"

"Believe that I love you..."

"Love won by deceit, by coercion..." Wendy retorted, too upset to temper her words. Peter flinched as if struck, his head turning to the side as he swallowed hard to bite back his anger.

Aramis stepped between them and held up his hands.

"Enough...we can sort out this muddle back at the Nymph..." As he turned his attention to the crew Wendy gathered her skirts and took off at a run, disappearing behind the hut and into the jungle beyond.

Peter made to follow her but found himself held firm by his first mate, Stubbs.

"Leave Harry to talk to her lad...she'll not be wanting to see your face for a little while."

Peter watched as the Doctor loped off after Wendy, two other crew following to provide aid if it was needed. When they disappeared from view he shook off Stubbs hand and turned away, his shoulder slumping as if under an enormous strain. Aramis and Stubbs exchanged a glance before the Captain approached Peter and laid an avuncular arm about his shoulders.

"Take heart lad...if she didn't love you so much she wouldn't be so upset."

"She's right though...we did trick her, did coerce her."

"But that doesn't change how you feel about her, or her about you? She'll come around and if not..." Aramis grinned wickedly. "We'll shut the pair of you in the Captain's cabin and let you sort it out between you, and won't let you out until you do."

Peter chuckled and elbowed the older man in the ribs.

"I'll have to hope you're right." Instantly he sobered. "Hook has the other book and Wendy's acorn pendant."

"I suspected as much...the Oracle has been more than reticent the last few days then indicated we needed to berth at the Bone Yard."

"You still have the thimble?"

"Of course..."

"Hook is being helped by someone...probably the Keeper. I turned down his offer of Kingship."

Aramis looked at Peter in surprise. "Why?"

"I don't know...because I didn't like the idea of that creature controlling my future."

"Your future has always been written Peter...you only needed to grow enough to be ready to accept the crown."

Peter appeared to be thinking, turning suddenly to face Aramis and fix him with an unblinking stare.

"Was Hook ever offered the crown? Were you?"

"If not before, I imagine it has been offered to him now...and me? I never aspired to be more than I was...Neverland was never truly mine, not as it has been yours...I was only a custodian, keeping it safe in trust until the true ruler arrived."

"Me?"

"You."

The sound of people approaching drew their attention back to the rickety hut, Harry leading Wendy from the jungle and back towards them, the two crewmen following behind. Harry had Wendy's hand in his and Peter felt a surge of possessive jealousy grip his innards, his fists clenching against his side.

Wendy kept her eyes downcast, gripping Harry's hand as if it were a lifeline. She didn't speak, leaving Harry to speak for her.

"I suggested to Miss Darling that the jungle wasn't the safest place to think things over, so she agreed to return to the Nymph until it could be arranged for her to go home."

Aramis placed a restraining hand on Peter's shoulder when he felt the young man tense. "A wise idea...let us go." Aramis agreed, holding on to Peter until Wendy passed by.

"Steady lad...you'll have your chance to set things right. In the meantime give her room."

With narrowed eyes Peter watched Harry lead Wendy to her place among the crewmen, only releasing her hand after lifting to his lips and kissing the tips, Wendy giving the young Doctor a smile in thanks. Immediately they moved off, leading the way back along the trail and back to the Nymph. Peter, Stubbs and Aramis brought up the rear, Harry waiting for them to catch up. As they drew level with the Doctor Peter suddenly lunged forward and punched Harry in the face, connecting with the man's jaw and knocking him to the ground. Instantly Stubbs grabbed Peter's arms and held him to prevent him from pummelling the young Doctor further. Harry accepted Aramis's hand to get up, his own dabbing gingerly at his mouth where a trickle of blood smeared his chin.

"What the hell was that for Peter?"

"Don't touch her again or I'll kill you!"

Harry scowled at Peter and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I didn't do more that be courteous to her...I brought her back, didn't I?"

"It's been a difficult morning after a difficult night. We're all tired and on edge." He turned to Peter who was struggling to free himself from Stubbs ham sized fists. "Harry wasn't doing anything for you to get jealous over Peter...you look like hell, let Harry look at you and dress some of those bruises."

Abruptly freed by his first mate, Peter stared at the ground, chastened by his former mentor's words and ashamed of hitting his friend.

"I'm sorry Harry...I shouldn't have lashed out like that."

Glad that Peter wasn't about to thump him again, Harry smiled crookedly. "Sorry I overstepped the boundaries...I won't do that again. For what it's worth...she's never smiled at me the way she does you."

Peter looked up at the Doctor and suddenly grinned, the two shaking hands before turning to follow the rest of the crew. Stubbs and Aramis shared a look before following the younger men along the trail.

They reached the shore at midday, Wendy grateful for the rest as she sank onto the sun warmed sand in the shade of a palm tree. The crewmen spread out over the beach to ready the boats drawn up between the rocks. She hadn't looked over her shoulder once to see how Peter was doing, her shoulders burning with the effort of not turning. Now she watched as Captain Aramis and Peter emerged from the jungle, passing where she sat to go down the beach to the waterline, both staring out at the ship moored in the bay. Stubbs stood close to Wendy, her silent guardian while the two Captain's, young and old, conversed at the water's edge. Soon the three boats were ready for launching, Harry approaching to help Wendy up and into the first boat along with Stubbs. Peter climbed into the second, and Aramis the third. Pulling strongly, the crewmen rowed the boats between the jutting spines of dark rock and through the breakers to the sea beyond. The Nymph lay peacefully at anchor, her flag flying smartly at the top of the mast, her anchor chain stretched taut by the out going tide.

Stubbs was muttering something to the Doctor and Wendy strained to hear their words.

"I can't see the watchman, or the lookout, can you?"

"Nope...or anyone on the deck...what do you think...?" Harry didn't finish, his words cut off by a shout from Captain Aramis hailing the Nymph.

"Ahoy the Nymph...ahoy the watch!" Aramis' voice boomed out across the water, but apart from the answering screech of a gull there was no reply from the crew on board.

As they approached the ship, Wendy's boat was held back, Stubbs moving to the front and staring up at the side of the ship as the other two boats bumped alongside. Like monkeys the men swarmed up the ship using the boarding nets and ropes hanging over the rail. Peter was just behind Aramis to clamber over the rail and Wendy held her breath, her ears straining for any sign of trouble even as her eyes swept over the seemingly peaceful ship. A sailor leant over the rail and signaled for Wendy's boat to come alongside..

Stubbs held the boat as close to the ships wall as possible while Wendy scrambled slowly up the boarding net, her feet hampered by her skirts as she carefully placed each toe hold, inching her way up the steep side. Eager hands reached over to pull her aboard and then she was standing on the sun warmed planking and surveying a scene of carnage.

The men left behind had put up a fair defense, their hands still clasping their weapons where they fell, blood pooling beneath them. The worst was around the entrance to the Captain's cabin where several bodies lay heaped, heavily cut about with evidence that they extracted a high price for their lives. Several of the bodies were not of the Nymph's crew and already they were being dragged away from the remains of the ships company. Peter and Captain Aramis had already gone below to check the hold, appearing several minutes later with grim faces that told their own story. Wendy remained at the rail, too shocked to speak, her face pale and her skin cold despite the heat of the sun beating on her head. Stubbs and the crew were folding canvas shrouds around the dead crew members, leaving the dead pirates to lay in the sun, glassy eyes staring up into the rigging. Harry had checked them all for any signs of life but retreated when it became obvious there was none. Peter and the Captain were too far away for Wendy to overhear their conversation but quick glances her way were enough to alert her to what had happened. Swallowing hard she picked her way over the deck to where the two men stood, avoiding where possible stepping in any of the pools of blood smearing the deck.

"It's gone, isn't it?" Wendy asked, glancing Peter's way but not meeting his eyes.

Peter continued to stare over the side of the ship, ignoring her, but Aramis turned to face her and nodded grimly.

"I'm afraid so lass...Hook has the Oracle, it's only chance that he didn't find the thimble as well."

"Where is it?"

Aramis removed his hat and lifted a chain from around his neck. The medallion glinted in the sunlight as he dangled it from his fingers.

"But that's a coin, not a thimble." Wendy remarked, watching it spin as Aramis held it.

"Peter?" The Captain held it out and Peter took it in his hand, closing his fist over the coin and holding it, an expression of fierce concentration creasing his face for a few seconds before he relaxed and released his fingers. On his palm now lay a familiar object, the thimble she had given him so very long ago.

"How did you..." Wendy asked but Peter had turned away again, staring off across the sea to the horizon. Aramis clucked his tongue and gently took Wendy's arm, steering her away from Peter and back to the opposite rail.

"Peter thought it best to hide it with me until it came time for the prophecy to be fulfilled, one way or the other. He changed it into a coin to further confound his enemies. I took it to a jewelers and had the chain attached. It was kept out of sight and away from harm in my safe at the bookshop."

Wendy stared up at the kindly face of her employer Mister Bennett and wanted nothing so much as to burst into tears. As if sensing how close she was to breaking down, Aramis led her towards the forecastle and into a room used to store weapons and spare canvas. He sat her down on a pile of sail material and pulled over a barrel for himself to sit on.

"We'll leave the men about their grisly business."

Wendy stared down at her hand, then glanced up at Aramis, her eyes swimming."It's my fault isn't it...my fault those men died, my fault that Peter won't take what the Keeper offered...if it wasn't for me, none of this would have happened!" Overwrought, she burst into noisy tears, covering her face with her hands.

For a moment Aramis let her weep, his own eyes moist as he refrained from comforting her. After a minute he got up and sat beside her, putting his arm around her and drawing her down to his shoulder.

"It's all been a bit much for you lass...one shock after another, it's no wonder you're all done in."

"H-h-e-e...m-m-ust...h-h-ha-te m-e-e.."

"No lass, he loves you, just a much as you love him."

His quietly murmured avowal only made Wendy sob harder, soaking the Captains coat front and forcing him to pull out a large square of linen for her to mop her face and blow her nose. After a few more minutes she pulled away and tried to repair the damage done to her face.

"You must think me a fickle person." Wendy whispered, not lifting her eyes to his.

"Not fickle...just confused, young and in love." Giving her shoulder a final squeeze he got to his feet and sat down once more on the barrel. Wendy finally raised her eyes and gazed across at the Captain, noting the lines around his eyes and his grey hair.

"How is it you know Peter, know Neverland?"

"I was once a Pan myself...long, long ago, before you or your parents were even thought of."

"Are you Peter's father?"

"No lass...we're not blood related, but we are related by experience, by this place and our place within these worlds."

"Why were you in London?"

"Because Peter asked me to look after you, watch over you and make sure all was well in your life."

"So it wasn't a coincidence, us meeting."

"It was...in a way. Peter couldn't foresee that you would keep up with your storytelling, or keep your interest in books and the like."

"And your brother, the one overseas?"

"Actually a great, great, grand-nephew from my sister's line. As we are of an age it seemed more helpful to say that he was my younger brother."

"Good gracious...how old are you?"

"Old enough to know an impertinent question when I hear it."

"Oh..." Wendy glanced away, not seeing the twinkle in Aramis' eye.

After several minutes of silence he leant forward. "Aren't you going to ask me how I know Peter?"

"If you choose to tell me." Wendy feigned indifference which made Aramis smirk in a way that forcefully reminded her of Peter.

"As a Pan it came to pass that I succumbed, as we all do, to a pretty face and I wanted my life on Neverland to change. I wanted to grow up and be with the one I'd chosen. I had lived on Neverland for a very long time and seen many children arrive and leave, never one capturing my heart until she appeared. Like you she made me feel there was more out there, more for me to experience, so I made up my mind and decided then and there to grow up. But, like Peter, I had been destined to become Ruler of the Three Worlds and was offered this by the Keeper. I turned it down, just like Peter."

Wendy waited for him to continue but as the silence stretched she prompted him. "What happened then?"

"I grew too old to be the Pan anymore, so a new one was found, a boy with raven hair from the slums of Olde London, his life worse than nothing before I found him. I took him back to Neverland and there made him the new Pan. At first he was content with what his new life demanded, a carefree existence with new Lost Boys to care for and play with, no worries about food, or shelter or anyone abusing them. It was idyllic."

Again Aramis paused and Wendy waited for him to continue.

"Didn't he like it?" She prompted.

"Oh he did for awhile...he enjoyed lording it over the other children, playing at being ruler of Neverland like a proper little King. I watched it all from afar, watched over him and prayed that I'd made the right choice. Unfortunately I wasn't careful enough. I was too taken up in my new life and my new love to notice that James, my successor was not content to play at being ruler, he wanted to be ruler of all he surveyed and not just Neverland, but everywhere - your world included."

Wendy had an inkling of who Aramis was talking about but held her tongue.

"It became apparent that the boy was getting too cocky for his own, and Neverlands good. I returned to the island and tried to remonstrate with the child, but it was no use. He was too wild, too arrogant, too drunk of his supposed powers. He tried to kill me and destroy the Nymph, his rage when he could do neither almost unholy in its ferocity.  
So I gathered the magical folk of Neverland together and we took the boys powers away from him. He was no longer the Pan, he was just an ordinary boy once more."

"Good heavens..."

"When that happened he stopped being a child and started to grow up, his thirst for revenge out weighing all his childish desires, his strength of purpose to avenge himself on me and mine becoming an obsession. Eventually he was old enough and strong enough to seek out the darker elements on Neverland, using them to secure himself a ship and crew and the means to fight me on equal terms. It was a terrible time for Neverland, the whole island in an uproar with the magical creatures battling to contain the darker forces released by James while I battled to keep the young man from blasting me from the sea. It was during this Titanic struggle that Peter appeared on the scene. You see the fairies had decided to take matters into their own hands and introduce a third player, Peter, to be the new Pan. Myself and James were too old in Neverland terms to be the Pan and we were locked in a mortal battle which ruled us out for the Kingship of Neverland, James because he was too wicked, and myself because I had already refused the offer. Before Peter arrived Neverland had become shrouded in a dark cloud, the air chill as our ships chased each other around the shores of this island, never able to outwit the other, always too far away or too awake to each trick to suffer a quick end to the battle. When Peter arrived spring arrived with him, the skies cleared and warmth flooding over the jungles making everything bloom. I immediately wanted to find this new child and protect him from James, but we were being hard pressed by the Jolly Roger and couldn't pause from our flight for a moment. As it was, our efforts were in vain. James caught up with us, and in a final showdown defeated me and my crew, slaying my wife in the battle and leaving me for dead. It was a miracle that the fairy folk found me and revived me, for I was already long gone with one foot in heaven."

"How terrible..." Wendy breathed, enthralled by his story.

"My ship and crew were lost, my love along with them, my life seemed to have no purpose, until I met up with Peter. He was so cocky and full of his own importance, flitting about the place like a demented dragon fly. I took it upon myself to teach the boy to fight, to be able at least to defend himself when James came to find him, as I was sure he would. Luckily it didn't happen at once and Peter was a quick learner. Eventually he overtook me in skill, much faster and more agile than I had ever been in my youth. By now I was a shadow of my former self, still full of grief for my wife and longing to return to the real world. Once I felt Peter was as ready as I could make him I left Neverland, with the aid of the fairies, and returned to London to find time had passed very quickly in my absence."

Aramis paused, his mind flooded with images from the past, a hand passing shakily over his eyes as he drew in a ragged breath.

"Of course James knew of Peter but hadn't been able to capture the boy, his frequent forays into the jungles usually ending up with Peter dancing rings around James and putting him in a rage which lasted for days. Peter considered it all the greatest fun and never let an occasion pass without taunting his enemy mercilessly. I was back in London by now but was kept up to date with events in Neverland by my friends among the fairy folk. They told me how James lost his hand to the crocodile, no thanks to Peter, and how James had taken the moniker of Captain Hook from that time on. From then on it was all out war between Peter and his band of Lost Boys and Captain Hook and the crew of the Jolly Roger, a battle without an end in sight for either side. It would have continued that way for centuries if you had not appeared on the scene...Peter would never have discovered that there is more to life than games and childish ways, he would never have discovered love and he needed it more than any child I have met before or since."

"Why did he need it so badly?"

"He was reaching a point where it was quite possible he would join with James and become his successor in all things. Before he discovered you and your stories he was becoming more cruel and more despotic with each passing day. Then he was led to you by his own fairy, Tinkerbell, who had heard your stories about pirates and mermaids and all the wonders of Neverland, having seeded your dreams to make sure you remembered them."

"She put those ideas in my head?"

"She was aware that Peter was drifting away from the gentler side of Neverland and she needed to find something to engage his interest away from the obsession of James Hook. Your stories were the perfect excuse to lure Peter away from Neverland and away from Hook. In fact it worked so well she had difficulty getting him to leave London at all and return to his home. The rest you know."

"He met me, brought me to Neverland, I kissed him and Hook was swallowed by the crocodile...but survived! Now Peter has grown up, there's a new Pan, Tomas, and Hook is alive as ever. Nothing has changed."

"You've changed...Peter has changed, even Neverland has changed since you last were here."

"Is Tomas to be the new Pan, the new King of Neverland now that Peter has rejected his destiny?"

"No...Tomas is just a boy playing boys games. He will stay for as long as he wants, but he is already starting to grow up, as all children do."

"And Peter?"

"He may say he has given up his Kingship...but I think he just says that to cover up the fact that he knows he's already the King Of Neverland, regardless of what any one says. He has the power inside him and has used it. He will even discover he still has the power to fly, if he chooses to try."

"He does? Why doesn't he use it?"

"Because he thinks it was left behind when he grew up. I spoke to Tink before she passed on to the High Host, she told me that Peter was the one, gifted with all the power a mortal could desire and that all he needed was someone to provide the final ingredient."

"Ingredient?" Wendy asked faintly.

"Love."

"Oh dear..."

Her head whirling with all that Aramis had told her, Wendy rose stiffly to her feet and walked over to the small porthole set in the side of the room. Outside the sun was sliding down to the horizon, the sea painted gold as it reflected the dying rays of the day. Wendy leant her head against her arm as she gazed at the sunset sending streaks of orange and pink across the sky, her emotions in turmoil. If Aramis was to be believed, and despite everything she had no reason not to believe him, Peter was indeed the true King of Neverland and she was his chosen Queen and everything that had happened both back when they first met and since had been leading to this moment in time. Closing her eyes she tried to imagine her life if Peter had not appeared in her room, enticed there by her stories. What she pictured was not pleasant and she quickly opened her eyes to banish the disturbing images. Turning away from the window she faced the room and the man patiently sitting upon the upturned barrel.

"I owe Peter an apology." She said, twisting her fingers together and biting her lip.

Aramis also rose to his feet and faced her in the darkening room.

"You just need some time together away from all this."

"Well that would be nice...is it possible with Hook breathing down our necks and everything bar the thimble in his possession?" The irony in her voice was not wasted on him.

Aramis shook his head ruefully. "Put like that I suppose a holiday is not exactly on the cards right now for anybody."

They shared a rueful smile before Aramis gestured for her to go ahead.

"Will he forgive me?" Wendy asked, her hand hovering over the door latch.

"Anything." Aramis answered without hesitating. "You are who he loves above all else, above me, above Neverland."

"I do love him...I always did."

"Then don't let anything stop you telling him."

"Thank you for letting me know how you met Peter...it explains so much."

"I thought it was time you knew." Aramis regarded her steadily for a moment. "Then you won't be asking me to take you back to London, back home?"

"Why would I ask you that? I am home."

Drawing in a deep breath Wendy twisted the latch and opened the door, stepping out onto the deck, her heart fluttering in her chest.

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tbc...


	15. Those Noble Intentions

19/10/05 

Title: To Have and To Hold

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Fifteen - Those Noble Intentions.

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When Wendy and Aramis reappeared on the deck Peter was not there. The men had been busy, the main deck was once more scrubbed clean with only the row of canvas wrapped bodies to destroy the illusion of a ship well run and at peace. Of the pirate dead there was no evidence and Wendy didn't ask assuming, quite rightly, that the remains had been dropped overboard to feed the circling sharks and other carnivores. She had wanted to go and find Peter but Aramis had advised patience, leaving Wendy in the care of the good Doctor who endeavored to entertain her as the ship made its way out of the bay and far out to sea, chasing the setting sun.

Wendy responded to Harry automatically, her responses barely above the monosyllabic, her body tense with anticipation as she waited for Aramis to return or for Peter to appear.

In the end neither happened. Mister Stubbs eventually came up on deck to supervise the burial of the dead and the crew gathered around to commit the bodies to the deep with Captain Aramis deputizing for Peter at the last moment as the men tipped the plank, letting the canvas shrouds slip under the waves. What Wendy didn't see was that as each body touched the water a sparkle of gold was released, the shroud with its weights plunging into the depths but the body no longer within the folds. As the water settled smoothly after each splash the golden sparkles floated briefly on the surface before returning to the ship to be absorbed into the hull, glittering brightly against the paintwork before disappearing into the woodgrain.

If Wendy had seen this spectacle she might have had an inkling of what Harry had meant when he'd told her that the crew was not exactly who they appeared to be.

As it was, she didn't and no one was prepared to enlighten her, so she remained in ignorance of the true nature of the people she took to be as real as she was. In reality the only true humans aboard the Nymph were Wendy, Aramis and Peter, for the Nymph and her crew, brought into being so long ago in the service of Neverland, was created out of the Great Host. Each crew member was, in truth, a fairy in his own right, although he appeared to be modeled on a human male. Each was tied to the ship and its Captain for the duration of that Captain's rule, starting first with Aramis and transferring to Peter when he grew of age.

Each rivet and rope, yard arm and bucket was made from magic so that when anything was lost, broken or in the case of the sailors, slain its original form was returned to the ship as part of the Fairy Host to strengthen those that remained.

Of the three humans aboard the ship, only two knew the truth and both of them had lived with the ship so long they had all but forgotten its magical origins, the people aboard as real to them as themselves.

Now with the committal service over and the sun long gone below the horizon Wendy stood forlornly at the rail and wondered what she was to do next. The crew had gone to their stations to prepare to sail as ordered, the deck washed with the soft light of lanterns lit more for the passengers than the sailors who knew the planks better than their faces. Wandering aimlessly across to the door leading to the cabins, Wendy gave a little cry of alarm when a figure loomed out of the shadows and towered over her.

"Oh Mister Stubbs...you made me jump!"

"Sorry Miss...just came to take you down for a meal and your bed, you look all done in."

"I feel all done in...was there ever such a long day as this one. Where are we sailing for?"

"Skull Rock...eventually."

"Oh...do you know why?"

"Not my business to know...Captain's orders."

Wendy smiled a little grimly. "Which one."

"Captain Aramis of course."

"Of course."

"We're sailing out to deep water and the night air gets chilly, you'd best get inside miss."

"I do feel cold."

"Cook's prepared a meal for you in your cabin and I'm sure we can rustle up something more substantial for you to wear."

Wendy plucked at her dress, the fine fabric not remotely suitable for any of her recent activities, the material snagged and stained and completely ruined. Sighing she stepped through the door which Stubbs held open and walked to the cabin door of the room she'd used before.  
Inside the cabin she sank down on the bunk suddenly weary beyond endurance. Stubbs appeared in the doorway with a tray which he set down on the bed beside her.

"Eat...sleep...you'll be that much better in the morning."

"Thank you Mister Stubbs. Is Peter...?"

"He's already eaten and been attended too by the Doctor, so don't worry about his hurts, for the most part they was only trifles."

"Oh...I see. Thank you Mister Stubbs...I'll see you in the morning then."

"Just leave the tray outside your door. Goodnight."

She waited for the cabin door to snick shut before burying her face in her hands and wondering if she'd ever be able to put things right again. Peter was obviously avoiding her and she wondered if she could mend what she had badly damaged with her lack of understanding. Aramis had given her a lot to think about, his shared history with Peter and Neverland and Hook so intertwined it made her head spin. Throw in all the business with the Oracle, the prophecy and the entity called The Keeper and she didn't know where to start to make sense of it all.

Pushing her tousled hair out of her face she sat leaning on one hand, the other against her cheek, staring down at the tray of food and considering if she might try a morsel before giving in to the urge to sleep forever.

In the end she made a good meal before making good use of the jug and basin on the wash stand. Feeling more refreshed she pulled open several drawers to find a change of clothes out of the small bureau in the corner. Tearing off the dress Hook had given her, Wendy gratefully donned fresh undergarments and a simple light wool, rose coloured, high waisted dress with sleeves down to her elbows. Warm and comfortable she nibbled on a piece of fruit before putting the tray outside the door. She longed to brush out her hair but she felt too tired and decided to leave that herculean task until the morning. Yawning she lay down fully clothed on the bunk and closed her eyes.

Minutes later the door opened a crack and Stubbs peered in. He had noticed how little had been eaten and was concerned. Seeing his charge fast asleep he made to shut the door again but a hand on his arm stopped him.

Peter stood beside him. "Is she well?"

"Not eating much, but she's changed her clothes and tidied herself up."

"Thank you Stubbs...take care of the tray for me."

Taking that as his dismissal, Stubbs carried the tray back to the galley, glancing back in time to see Peter slip into the cabin and close the door.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

He stood with his back pressed against the wood, the flickering candle barely illuminating the small room, the faint light gilding the girl on the bed laying on her side, her back to the room.

He listened to her breathing, willing her to sense his presence, but also hoping that she remained asleep. Pushing himself away from the door he stepped over to the porthole and stared out at the waves rushing past under the moonlit sky.

That side of the ship was in shadow and the moonlight barely penetrated the cabin, Peter welcoming the dark shadows hiding his face and body. He had known the Oracle was gone before anyone set foot on the Nymph, his awakened senses telling him the truth before it became known. It was as if he had a voice speaking to him in his head, a voice that spoke to him of things he couldn't possibly see, like the whereabouts of the Jolly Roger right at that moment, and of Hook, his rival and sworn enemy.

Unlike the force that had created the tornado, this voice also told him of things he didn't want to know, bringing images to his mind of cruel and hateful things that sickened him and made him wish the voice would leave him. Even now it was making pictures in his head of what he could do with the girl sleeping only feet from him, the images so cruel he almost cried out for them to stop, his fists bunching against the sides of his head as the voice became more insistent. It was the voice that had drawn him to the cabin, its promptings urging him on, preying on his need to see her, until to give himself some peace he went as ordered and now stood in the corner staring down at her.

As he stood there a figure started to coalesce in the small space between the bunk and the ships wall, its smoky robes swirling up to the ceiling and along the wall, curling around the end of the bed but never quite touching the girl still sleeping on the covers.

Peter watched the Keeper appear before him but found himself unable to utter a sound, his throat constricted even as he moved his lips to call out.

"Don't bother Pan...you can't call for help, not unless I release you, and I won't do that...not yet."

Rolling his eyes Peter tried to move but found himself frozen to the spot, his body immobile, only his eyes able to follow the Keepers movements as he floated around the small room. He tried to call on the force within him but it too was frozen. The Keeper loomed over the bunk, peering down at the girl below, his ethereal fingers appearing from his robes to stroke over Wendy's hair and face.

"Such a pretty trinket. No wonder you were ensnared, but you foolishly refused my offer of Kingship, so I have decided to offer it to another."

Struggling furiously against the force holding him, Peter managed to form one word from his strangled throat.

"N-n-n-o-o!"

"But yes..." The Keeper swung around and approached Peter, enveloping him in the smoky tendrils of his cloak, Peter recoiling from the touch of the Keeper as icy chills swept over his body. Suddenly, from the walls and floor, golden specks of light started to appear but they were given no chance to form an attack, the Keeper sweeping his arm in an arc that banished the fairy force before it could gather.

"Your fairy magic will have no place in this cabin while I am here."

Twisting away, the Keeper once more approached the bunk, inarticulate noises coming from Peter as the creature once more touched Wendy, enveloping her head with its vaporous touch.

"I think I might enjoy being mortal once more," the Keeper hissed, turning back to Peter and hovering in front of him. "It's been so long I've forgotten what it is to touch, to feel...but I know a way I can do all that...with a little help from you."

Before Peter could do more than glare impotently at the creature, he found his mouth full of its vapors, the Keeper pouring into Peter's mouth and nose, filling his lungs and stomach, seeping into each and every pore of his skin until there was nothing left in the cabin, the Keepers essence now inside Peter himself.

Immediately he found himself released, the tension in his muscles propelling him across the room to fall on the bunk across Wendy.

"Peter?" Wendy's sleepy query brought his head up, his face blank for a moment before a wide, ghastly grin stretched his lips wide and he slowly righted himself, allowing Wendy to sit up.

"Oh Peter, I so wanted to see you...I needed to tell you I'm sorry."

"There's no need Wendy...I understand." Peter's strangely monotone voice whispered out of the shadows, but Wendy was so intent on getting her feelings across that she didn't notice, at first, his abstracted air.

"There is a need. Aramis spoke to me...told me of his history. I understand so much better now..." She stopped when Peter's hand clamped itself on the back of her neck and jerked her forward towards him. Before she could cry out that he was hurting her, his lips had covered hers and smothered her, grinding against her mouth painfully, drawing blood as her lips cut into her teeth. She started to struggle but his grip was like iron and she couldn't dislodge him. Wrenching her mouth away she stared wide eyed into Peter's and what she saw scared her witless. The flames were back, not small like before, but leaping and blazing, Peter's eyes full red, flickering despite there being no light to provide a reflection, the feeble candle extinguished when Peter had fallen on the bed.

"Please...don't do this...Peter..." Her breathless whisper fell on ears that no longer heard her. As she struggled in earnest Peter pinned her to the bed, his mouth once more on hers, biting and sucking, punishing her as she kicked out and pummelled his back. Abruptly he pulled away, his hands holding her flailing hands beside her head as his body held her to the bunk.

"I like it when you fight...I'd forgotten what it was like to have a living, breathing creature struggle for its life in my grasp."

Wendy stared up at Peter in shock, his tone so unlike his usual voice she began to suspect that it was not her Peter trying to hurt her, but something that had taken over his body.

"Who are you?" She gasped, straining away from him when he leant down to run the flat of his tongue over her neck, her pulse leaping wildly under the skin.

"Who do you think I am?" He asked cryptically, biting her on the neck and making her whimper in pain.

"You're not my Peter...he would never hurt me the way you are."

"Well, well...you're not as stupid as I took you for." The Keeper, staring out of Peter's eyes, winked at the terrified girl, his hands squeezing her wrists so hard it brought tears to her eyes. "In pain are we?"

Biting her lip, Wendy fought the waves of agony from her arms and tilted her head up, spitting directly into Peter's face before letting her head fall back to the pillow. Above her Peter snarled, releasing one of her hands to draw his own back to slap her. As the sound of the blow faded the door of the cabin was flung open and it seemed to Wendy that the entire crew of the Nymph poured into the tiny room, light blinding her as, with a roar, Peter leap off her and backed up to the corner beside the chest of drawers, his teeth bared like an animal. As she tried to see through the press of bodies, Peter appeared to writhe in agony before something poured from his mouth and nose, the smoke forming into the shape of the Keeper briefly before disappearing through one of the walls. Peter immediately crumpled, his eyes rolling up into his head, his body caught by Stubbs before he could hit the wooden floor.

Too shocked to move, Wendy sat shivering on the bunk, staring blankly at the men as they filed out of the cabin, Stubbs carrying Peter in his arms and leaving Harry behind to take care of Wendy. The Doctor knelt beside the bed and took one of her cold hands in his own, chafing it as he peered into her white face, the red imprint of Peter's hand clearly visible on her cheek.

"Wendy? Can you tell me what happened?"

Harry's voice floated to her from a great distance away, her eyes slowly turning to look into his, blinking as if coming awake from a dream. "It wasn't Peter."

"I know...he had the Keeper inside him, controlling him."

"He had flames in his eyes and his voice." She shuddered, Harry gripping both her hands to ground her.

"Did he say anything to you?"

"Not really." She freed one of her hands, her fingers tentatively feeling her bruised mouth, still smeared with blood. "He was going to...going to...rape me."

"It wasn't Peter..he would never hurt you like that, you know that, don't you?"

"I thought I did." Wendy whispered, her eyes filling with tears as reaction set in. At that moment Captain Aramis appeared and took in the situation at a glance. Ushering Harry aside, he sat down on the bed and took Wendy into his arms, holding her head to his shoulder as she slumped against him, her fingers clutching at his coat while she shuddered and cried her fright out within his arms.

"Fetch some brandy Harry...she'll need a restorative."

"Aye sir...I think we all do." Leaving the cabin, Harry hurried to fetch the decanter from the Captain's cabin, returning with a tray holding the glass bottle and several tumblers.

Wendy had stopped crying and sat forlornly on the side of the bed beside Aramis, her face adverted. Harry set the tray down on the chest of drawers and hung up the lantern left there by one of the crew. Its warm light helped to dispell the lingering shadows in the cabin.

"Here lass, drink this...it'll help." Aramis held out a tumbler filled with two fingers of brandy. Wendy hesitated then took the glass, tossing the contents back with a single gulp, the men watching both raising their eyebrows in surprise.

"Feel better?" Aramis asked, taking the empty glass and handing it back to Harry.

"I don't usually advocate the application of spirits, but in this case I think it was entirely warranted, don't you?" Said Wendy, blinking owlishly at them both.

Seeing a flush of colour enter her face, Aramis nodded in agreement, taking a glass for himself that Harry held out for him.

Wendy looked up at Harry and frowned at the Doctor. "Shouldn't you be seeing how Peter is?"

"He'd want me to make sure you're okay first..." Harry argued, exchanging a worried glance with Aramis when Wendy waved away his protest.

"I'm fine Harry...go see how Peter is...the good Captain will keep me company." Before Aramis could react Wendy had purloined his glass and downed it in one gulp as well, Aramis hurriedly shooing Harry out of the cabin, the brandy bottle along with him.

"I think you've had enough...maybe you should lay down young lady. I suspect you are not used to strong liquor..."

"Never had a drop before in my life." Wendy announced, her face lighting up with a sunny smile, her eyes sparkling as she stared at Aramis.

"As I said...well, no harm done to have a drop or two."

Just as suddenly Wendy's sunny mood dissipated and she stared worriedly at the cabin door. "Peter will be alright, won't he?"

"He'll be fine, he's strong and now he'll be on his guard if the Keeper tries that trick again."

"Why does the Keeper hate us so? He must be so angry.." She held up her hand against the red mark still painting her cheek. "He hit me..."

"We'll talk all about it in the morning, but for now you need to rest..." Aramis soothed, putting his hand on Wendy's shoulders and gently pressing her back down to the pillows.

"What if he comes back?" Her eyes, wide with fear, stared up at Aramis as he smoothed the hair from her face.

"I'll have someone on watch all night, right outside the door here...the door will be left open and no-one will be allowed to enter or leave without us knowing about it."

Still troubled, Wendy nodded unhappily, watching Aramis through half closed eyes as he checked the room thoroughly before returning to stand beside her. "There's nothing here now, so try and sleep lass."

"I don't think I can..." Wendy whispered, her voice already slurred as the brandy worked its magic, her eyes drifting shut with the pull of the alcohol and exhaustion from too many shocks in one day.

Aramis remained in the doorway until he was sure she was asleep. Then he instructed two of the crew to stand guard on her room until they were relieved, the lantern left burning to keep the shadows at bay.

Satisfied that he had done all he could, Aramis hurried along to the Captain's cabin and flung open the door.

"How bad is he?" He demanded of Stubbs and Harry standing on either side of the bed.

"He appears to have fainted. Apart from the bruises and injuries inflicted by Hook, which are healing quickly I might add, he's unmarked and unharmed." The Doctor reported, scraping his fingers through his hair in relief.

"I don't imagine he submitted to the Keeper without a struggle." Grunted Stubbs, his hands on his hips, fingers drumming as he stared down at Peter laid out on the bed.

"Well we won't know what happened until he comes around. I'll stay with him." Said Harry, settling himself in the chair at the end of the bed.

"Both of you keep watch over him, and wake me if anything happens or he wakes up."

"Aye aye Captain."

"Yes sir."

With a last glance at the still figure on the bed, Captain Aramis nodded to his two crewmen and left the room, intent on a complete check of the ship before even thinking about finding a bunk for the night.

Inside the Captain's cabin the two watchdogs settled themselves as comfortably as possible, sure that it was going to be a very long night.

Outside, the moon rose sedately into the sky, her light carving a bright pathway that seemed to have been especially created for the Nymph as she sailed the golden waves, her destination Skull Rock, still several hours away. Aboard, her fairy crew remained awake and alert, only the human element of the ships company taking their uneasy rest, Peter's oblivion made restless by insubstantial foe which he battled futilely, his weapons ineffective against his ghostly enemy. Wendy's sleep was also disturbed by dreams of fear and flight, her efforts to remain ahead of her enemies frustrated by limbs that moved as if through treacle, even as unseen claws reached out to drag her back. Aramis was the only one to sleep dreamless, his thoughts untroubled by the future or the past.

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Peter regained his senses just before dawn, letting out a shout and bolting upright, his eyes wide but unseeing. His two watchdogs fell out of their chairs in shock before staggering to the bed to hold Peter down, his thrashing arms and clenched fists connecting and inflicting a bloody nose to the Doctor and a loose tooth for his first mate.

"Peter calm down...you're safe, it's me...Harry!"

"Blimey Charley quit fighting Peter!"

Awareness suddenly flared in Peter's eyes and he stopped fighting his friends, slumping back onto the bed like a pricked balloon, his head lolling against the pillow while Stubbs hovered warily and Harry wiped the blood streaming from his nose. Through heavy lidded eyes Peter stared at the two men beside him.

"What happened?" He asked faintly, his sudden burst of activity having drained him and left him as weak as a new born.

"What do you remember?" Harry asked, flopping back into his chair, tilting his head back to stem the blood still flowing sluggishly from his nose.

"Stubbs...and Wendy, I think...and something gagging me...I couldn't breath..." Peter gasped, his chest heaving.

"You need to relax." Harry cautioned, Peter nodding his head, understanding the need to squash the feeling of panic making his heart pound.

"Do you remember anything else?" Stubbs asked, an edge to his voice making Peter give him a hard look.

"Nothing...what happened?"

He saw Stubbs and Harry exchange a look before turning to face him.

"We heard what sounded like a struggle coming from Wendy's cabin..." Harry started to explain, only to have Peter bolt upright again his face strained.

"Is she alright? Who was it? Did Hook get aboard?"

Again Stubbs and Harry exchanged a look.

"It wasn't Hook, Peter...it was you." Harry told him frankly.

"Me?"

"Well that's not entirely true," Stubbs interrupted. "It was your body, but the Keeper had taken you over...you weren't yourself."

"Oh God... what did I do? Is Wendy alright?"

"She sleeping...Aramis gave her some brandy and it settled her back down." Harry told him, avoiding Peter's eye and staring down at his blood stained shirt.

"What did I do?" Peter ground out, glaring at Stubbs and willing him to confess the truth. Stubbs squirmed.

"Aw Peter...it wasn't your fault...it wasn't you, not really."

"Tell me!"

Stubbs heaved a heavy sigh before speaking. "You were attacking her, on the bed...you had just slapped her when we burst in." Stubbs told him, his voice subdued as if to take some of the sting out of the awful facts.

For a moment Peter stared at his first mate in disbelief, then his eyes flickered and he slumped back on the pillows, covered his face with his hands and groaned. "Oh God...what have I done..?"

Correctly interpreting his question as rhetorical, both Stubbs and Harry kept mum and waited for Peter to speak again.

Peter dropped his hands after several minutes, silently rolling onto his side, lifting his legs over the side of the bed and attempted to stand. Both Harry and Stubbs moved together, Harry supporting Peter when he swayed momentarily, the bout of faintness passing quickly.

"I'm fine Harry...I'm fine now." Peter waved them both back and staggered the few steps to the door, turning at the last moment to rest his back against the studded wood so he could face the room.

"Where are we...did we reach Skull Rock?"

"Just before star set." Stubbs affirmed, folding his arms across his chest to give his hands something to do. Harry subsided back into his chair and watched Peter warily for any more signs of faintness.

"Then we're safe for the moment...Hook is too far away to do much, it would take him at least six hours just to sail to this point."

Harry narrowed his eyes and squinted at Peter. "And how do you know that?"

Grinning faintly, Peter pressed his hands against the door behind him and levered himself upright. "Things have changed somewhat since I last saw you...I can sense a whole lot of stuff. Hook won't be able to spring any surprises this time."

"What about the Keeper...he sprung quite a surprise on you tonight!"

For a moment Peter held his hand to his head, his eyes squeezed shut as if listening for something. "He's gone...at least from my head." Seeing the expressions on Stubbs and Harry's faces he filled them in on the voice he'd heard and the images he's experienced. Both men agreed it was probably the Keeper. "What will you do next time you hear the voice?" Harry asked with concern.

"I don't think he'll try that trick again." Peter said grimly, drawing in a deep breath to steady himself. "I'll be ready for him next time."

"What if he tries something else?" Stubbs voiced the question they were all thinking. Peter shrugged.

"I'll worry about that when it happens. We'll be safe here until Hook makes his move, so tell the crew to stand down from their posts and enjoy the break. We don't know how long it will be for and they've worked hard."

"As you wish...what are you going to do?"

"I need to speak to Aramis. There are plans to be made..."

"And Wendy?" Harry asked, rising to his feet.

"Take good care of her...it would be best if she doesn't see me too soon, I'm thinking...if at all." He looked desolate. "If what you say I did is true...I tried to rape her. She's hardly likely to want to have anything more to do with me."

"You can't abandon her Peter!" Harry exclaimed shocked at the bleak expression hardening his friends face.

"I've made a rotten mess of everything...if she asks for me, tell her I'm busy making plans...and if she asks to go home..." Peter paused, swallowing convulsively.

"What? What do I tell her?" Harry pressed for an answer.

"Tell her I'm sorry."

Turning away Peter pulled open the cabin door and lurched outside leaving his two friends gaping at each other in disbelief.

"He can't mean to let her go?" Harry whispered, turning to stare at the first mate. Stubbs only shrugged.

"We'll have to wait and see." He heaved another heavy sigh. "Best see about rousing cook to get breakfast on the range. We'll none of us have any peace until those two sort out this mess."

"Can they? They're only mortal after all!" Harry asked drily as Stubbs brushed past him heading for the door.

"With a little faith, trust and a smidgeon of pixie dust," Stubbs replied, grinning roguishly at the Doctor before passing out of the cabin.

"Idiot." Harry remarked to the empty cabin, sniffing as he gingerly touched his swollen nose and wished he had a chunk of ice to lay on it.

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The sun was well over the yard arm when Wendy opened her eyes, her first scattered thoughts focusing quickly on her throbbing cheek, her fingers gently probing the tender flesh, wincing when her explorations hit a particularly sore area beneath her eye. Her head also ached and she wished for nothing more than to sink back into oblivion until all her aches and pains were no more than a memory, but reality was never so convenient and she sat up slowly, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, careful not to jar herself more than necessary.

She was still sitting there when a knock sounded at the half open door and she called a cautious "come in" to whoever begged entrance. Stubbs poked his shaggy head around the jamb and grinned to see her awake.

"Oh good...you're up." He winced in sympathy when Wendy lowered her hand to reveal the colourful bruise marking her face. "Oooh that's gotta hurt...do ya think you can bite down a morsel of breakfast?"

Wendy gave the first mate a lopsided smile, her lips still tender from the punishing attack the night before. " A little tea would be welcome Mister Stubbs...and maybe some fresh water to bathe my face."

"Coming right up...don't move a muscle I'll be back in a tick." Shutting the door behind him, Stubbs hurried away to carry out her requests, muttering something about wishing there was some ice aboard to put on the girls poor sore face. The two crewmen standing guard had been dismissed by Stubbs just before he knocked and he wasted no time returning to the cabin with the items Wendy had asked for. He carried a tray on which sat a large jug of water for washing, a fresh square of linen for a towel and a dainty porcelain cup that steamed with fragrant china tea. Wendy sat on the side of the bed while the first mate bustled about the cabin like an over-sized house maid, his bulk not limiting his ability to balance a delicate tea cup as he ably demonstrated, handing the cup and saucer to her without spilling a drop before whisking himself once more out the door.

"I'll be back with the good Doctor with something for your poor face."

Before Wendy could voice a question or gratitude he was gone and she cradled the cup of tea thankfully, inhaling its welcome familiarity in a world gone slightly mad.

Harry appeared in due course and gently examined her cheek and mouth, tutting over the damage and shaking his had. "I have some arnica to help bring out the bruise and some salve to help heal your lips..." He paused, wondering how to phrase his next question. "Did you suffer any other injuries?"

Wendy lifted her head from her cup and looked perplexed. "Other injuries?"

"I mean..." Harry swallowed, "it was pretty clear last night what Peter...er...the Keeper was trying to do..."

Wendy blushed crimson and quickly shook her head in the negative.

"Oh..well that's a relief for all concerned." Harry huffed, exchanging a thankful grimace with Stubbs who hovered in the doorway. "In that case, I'll fetch the necessary ointments and leave you to rest. Nothing strenuous today please." He wagged his finger at her before getting to his feet and leaving the cabin.

"I hope he doesn't intend for me to stay immured in this cabin for the whole day?" Wendy asked the first mate, handing back the now empty tea cup.

"I don't expect so...just don't hurry anything. Another cuppa?"

Wendy nodded. "Yes please...if it's not too much trouble."

"None whatsoever." Stubbs grinned and took himself off to the galley. Harry returned shortly with two jars of unguent, smoothing them carefully over her cheek and lips, Wendy only wincing a little at his ministration before the Doctor wiped his fingers clean on a cloth.

Stubbs returned with the tea and Harry took his leave, admonishing her to take it easy for the rest of the morning. The tea had helped her headache and she felt the urge to breath fresh air to clear the last of the woolliness from her head. Under Stubbs watchful eye she managed to walk the length of the passageway without aid and stepped out into full sunshine, her face instantly tilting to feel the sun and soak up the warmth. The crew appeared to be taking their ease, lolling on heaps of sail cloth as they sewed new sheets or repaired the old, some sitting on coils of rope, fishing nets spread across their legs as they checked over the knots and repaired any holes. Most ignored her presence as she wandered over to the ships rail and rested her arms on the sun warm wood, the waft of a sea breeze lifting her hair as she breathed deeply of the salty air. The slap of the water against the side was soothing and she turned to survey the ship, her eyes searching for Peter among the men on board, her heart sinking when it was evident Peter was no where to be seen. Stubbs had been talking to one of the men and he noticed her looking around, suspecting quite rightly who she was looking for.

Wendy, disappointed in her search, walked over to the first mate and peered up into his face. "Where is he?"

"He's busy miss...planning our next move, I believe, with Captain Aramis."

"And he can't spare me a moment?"

"I'm not privy to everything that goes on..." Wendy snorted at that blatantly obvious falsehood and Stubbs paused before continuing. "At least not this time.." he qualified, giving Wendy an aggrieved look.

"He doesn't want to see me does he?"

Unable to look her in the eye, the first mate nodded, shuffling his feet.

"He blames me for what happened last night." Wendy stated flatly, staring down at the deck.

"No...he blames himself." Stubbs hurriedly corrected her, cursing Peter for making him the fall guy and wishing he was somewhere else.

"But he was under the control of the Keeper? How can he be at fault?"

"No more than you are, as anyone of sense would tell you." Stubbs retorted, scrubbing a ham sized fist through his hair in frustration.

Wendy sighed deeply and laid a hand on his arm. "If you see Peter, tell him I am not...afraid of him and I do want to see him again. Would you tell him that?"

"Of course lass...although I'm thinking a good knock on the noggin might be a sight more beneficial...for both of you!"

Wendy laughed at the first mate, his scowl turning into a rueful grin.

"Oh Mister Stubbs, I am so glad Peter has you for a friend."

"And yourself miss...?" Stubbs added with a wink.

"And my friend too, of course. I won't press the limits of that friendship Mister Stubbs as 'tis clear Peter gave you his orders before I awoke, but I give you fair warning; if Peter won't see me, then I will have to find him myself."

Stubbs grin widened, his teeth positively blinding in the sunlight.

"I'll make sure he's not that difficult to find...when you're ready to go looking, that is."

"Thank you Mister Stubbs, I knew I could rely on you."

They exchanged a conspiratorial glance before Wendy turned back to contemplate the view and Stubbs wandered off to check on the men.

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It was soon after midday that Wendy nodded to Mister Stubbs who replied with a wink and a tilt of his head, Wendy following the motion to see Captain Aramis following a crewman into the rigging, the Captain surprisingly agile for a man of his years. Wendy understood at once and hurried towards the quarter deck and the Captains quarters.

Suddenly breathless with anticipation she paused outside the cabin and lifted her hand to knock. Receiving a summons to enter, she did just that, finding the main room empty. Closing the door behind her she stepped forward and looked around the corner into the chart room which led off the sleeping quarters, where she finally spied Peter leaning hunched over a raised table covered with rolled and unrolled maps.

Without turning Peter spoke and waved his hand in the direction of a small table off to the side beside a chair.

"Set it down there man and leave me."

Wendy bit her lip and advanced further into the room, her bare feet silent against the floorboards. She saw Peter's shoulders suddenly stiffen and then he straightened and turned to face her. Immediately his eyes were drawn to her bruised cheek and she self consciously lifted her fingers to touch it, wincing. Peter also winced, his hands clenching at his side as he dragged his gaze away from her face and turned his back on her.

"I was expecting lunch."

"I'll gladly fetch it for you, but first I need to speak to you."

"There's nothing to say...I tried to rape you. I'm surprised you're prepared to look at me, let alone talk."

Taking a step towards him, Wendy twisted her hands together then pulled them apart. "You didn't do anything of the kind and of course I want to see you, talk to you...I...I love you."

Peter's hands had been resting on the edges of the chart table but with her last words they clenched, white knuckled, around the wooden beading.

"I could have killed you...I know I wanted to...he wanted to...after he'd...I'd had my way with you."

"But you didn't...you stopped.."

"Only because we were interrupted and the Keeper fled." Peter retorted bitterly, his voice riddled with guilt.

Faced with his rigid back, Wendy took another step forward.

"But you didn't, and I'm fine...really. Harry gave me some ointment and in a day or two I'll be back to normal."

Peter snorted and shook his head. "Will you forget what happened as easily as your body forgets its injuries, I think not."

"It wasn't you Peter, it was the Keeper...I don't hold you responsible."

"And what of my other crimes? Of deceiving you, tricking you into being here, bringing you against your will...taking what was destined for your husband!" The last word was spat out as if he'd swallowed something poisonous, his shoulders so tense he was starting to shake.

"I was wrong to accuse you...I realise now that it wasn't like that, not really." Wendy told him, her soft voice bridging the gap between them.

"You are generous indeed...would that I could be so with myself." Peter replied hoarsely, his head still turned away.

Wendy took the last step that would bring her close enough to touch him, her hand reaching out to lay flat against his tense back, his skin warm through his shirt. With the touch of her hand Peter jerked, holding himself rigid before suddenly slumping, his back still turned to her but his head now bowed.

"Please look at me...I know the bruise is ghastly and I haven't brushed my hair..." Before she could catalogue any more of her shortcomings Peter swung around and enfolded her in his arms, her face pressed to his chest where his heart thundered beneath her cheek, his face nuzzling her hair as he buried his nose behind her ear.

"I'm so sorry." His muffled apology was lost on Wendy, her own arms wrapping around him, her hands flattened against his back, pressing him closer.

"If you don't kiss me in the next few seconds I'll think you don't love me at all..." As she hoped she never got to finish her sentence, Peter pulling back only far enough to allow him to find her lips and cover them with his own, her body melting against his as she surrendered willingly to his tender assault. They stayed locked together for several pleasurable minutes, their kiss speaking for their hearts, obviating words in preference of actions.

Peter broke the kiss first, Wendy gasping as his hands smoothed the tousled hair from her face, his eyes roaming over her features before he lowered his head again, tenderly kissing her lips before passing on to her eyes, cheeks and jaw, thrilling her with his lovemaking, their hearts beating in unison as they stood pressed together from breast to thigh, Wendy's fingers combing the back of Peter's neck and kneading the long muscles in his back. Peter cradled her face in his hands and held her away so that he could look at her, his eyes still carrying a hint of guilt as he brushed his thumb over the discolored mark below her eye. Sensing his mood Wendy brought her hand forward to cup his cheek, Peter turning his head to plant a kiss on her palm.

"Does it hurt as badly as it looks?" He whispered in loving concern, sweeping his thumb over the hurt again.

"Only if I think about it." Wendy replied, her eyes dancing as Peter gave her a sharp look.

"Then I'll have to make sure you remain distracted enough not to think about it."

Wendy smiled. "I was so hoping you'd say that." Reaching up she pressed her lips to his in an open invitation that Peter accepted willingly.

Without breaking the kiss Peter wrapped his arms about Wendy's waist and lifted her off her feet, her own arms about his neck as he carried them both over to the bed, laying them down on the rumpled covers, legs tangling as hands roamed over beloved features, renewing their acquaintance with the texture of each others skin and hair. Soft sighs greeted further exploration, warm fingers finding soft contours and hardened peaks, heated flesh meeting the cooler air of the cabin as clothes found themselves thrown to the floor so that skin could meet skin to meld and slide over each other in a passionate dance. Their joining was a culmination of tender touches and blazing trails left by eager lips and dancing fingers, Wendy crying out with joy when he entered her, her limbs wrapping around him to hold him close as he filled her heart and body and mind to the exclusion of all else. Her blood quickened as Peter claimed her for his own, her name on his lips as he strained above her, their mutual climax casting them both up to the stars before sending them tumbling back to earth, trembling in the aftermath as they exchanged butterfly kisses and gazed lovingly into each other's eyes, the world well lost for love.

"Oh Wendy...am I truly forgiven for treating you so badly?"

"There was nothing to forgive...and I don't think you'd know how to treat me badly if you tried. I just didn't understand, my love."

"There is nothing to understand except that I love you.." He pressed urgent kisses to her brow and temples, "want you.." her fingers combing over his head as she purred.

"And I you..." She whispered against his cheek.

Peter slowed his loving assault and stared down at her, his feelings clearly visible in his eyes, no hint of the red flame anywhere in their blue-green depths. "Will you be my Queen, Wendy?"

"If you will be my King."

"For you I'll be whatever the fates decree...for you I'd be anything you wanted me to be."

Wendy felt a lump in her throat and swallowed hurriedly, blinking away the sudden rush of tears to her eyes.

"I just want you to be who you've always been...Peter Pan, the boy who I loved from the very first."

"Very first?"

"From the moment I opened my eyes and saw you hovering over my bed like an angel...like a dream."

"That wasn't the first time I'd watched you sleep." He admited with a sheepish grin.

"Did you love me then?" Wendy asked, smiling up at him while she played with the hair curling over his ears.

"No." He grinned when Wendy tugged his hair sharply.

"You didn't? Then when?"

"I think it was when you were lying on the forest floor after Tootles shot you down. You looked so beautiful with your hair spread out like it is now. I think I knew then that I never wanted to let you leave me."

Wendy smiled up contentedly and smoothed the skin of his jaw.

"And I won't leave you Peter...not willingly."

"What if I was to send you away?" He teased, nibbling on her neck.

"I would tie myself to the mast and beg you to keep me by your side."

"You wouldn't have to beg very hard...I never could resist your beautiful eyes," He kissed her eyelids. "Your beautiful nose," he kissed the tip. "Or your sinfully wicked mouth, just made for thimbles."

Wendy giggled as Peter pressed a smattering of kisses over her lips from corner to corner.

She sighed deeply and drew her finger along his jaw to his lips.

Peter stopped his teasing and gave her a look of concern. "Are you tired?"

She looked up at him and smiled. "Not a bit."

A slow, beautiful grin spread over Peter's face seconds before he swooped down to cover her mouth with his own, time once more suspended as they gave in to the pull of passion and renewed their vows of love with tender touches and tangled limbs.

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tbc...


	16. Night Manouevers

24/10/05 

Title: To Have and To Hold

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Sixteen - Night Manoeuvres

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When the lovers finally appeared on the main deck it was drawing in to evening, the afternoon whiled away in passionate dalliance, capped with a picnic held on the white sands of one of Skull Rock's cove's, just the two of them, Peter rowing the small jolly boat to the lee of the rock and out of sight of the Nymph. There they watched the sun sink low in the sky while they frolicked naked in the warm surf, safe from prying eyes and only sea gulls for company. Later they watched as each star appeared in the sky above them, Peter naming the constellations as they lay on a rug against the warm sand.

It was magical and wonderful and Wendy never wanted it to end.

"We have to get back to the Nymph," said Peter at last, his hand rubbing up and down Wendy's arm as she snuggled into his side, pleasantly sleepy.

"I suppose we do...what are you going to do about Hook? And the Keeper?"

"That's why we have to get back...Hook's on the move."

He felt her tense then relax once more, his hand continuing its stroking.

"How long?" She finally asked.

"Hours...sometime tonight."

"Are you going to fight him?"

"I'm going to get back what is rightfully mine."

Wendy felt a sharp spike of fear grip her but she forced it away, not wanting to spoil the magical hours they'd spent together.

"I suppose you've already planned everything with Captain Aramis."

"As much as we can...we don't know how involved the Keeper will be in all this...he can't travel for very long from the Never Realm, but he can still do mischief when he does, even for short excursions."

"Is there no way to keep him penned...up there?"

Peter chuckled. "He's not exactly a goat or a sheep."

"Why was he sent there in the first place?"

"I don't know...I assumed he was the Keeper of some magic power to be bestowed on the King of Neverland when he was invested. But it would seem I was wrong...even Aramis assumed that the Keeper was there to serve whoever took on the mantle of Kingship."

"But he's helping Hook!"

"Quite...so there must be some other reason, one we don't know of yet."

They lay quiet for a few more moments listening to the lap of the waves on the beach drawing ever closer with the incoming tide.

"Come...we have to go. Time and tide..." He nodded towards the encroaching sea water. "Wait for no man..."

"Not even the King of Neverland?" Wendy teased, accepting his hand to draw her to her feet.

"Not even Peter Pan." Peter grinned, planting a smacking kiss on her lips before bending to gather up the blanket while Wendy gathered the picnic stuff together. They loaded up the small boat and climbed aboard, Peter once more taking up the oars and smoothly rowing them over the darkening sea back to the Nymph. Willing hands helped them aboard and a small group of people stood gathered near the main mast.

"All Hail Peter Pan! All Hail the King of Neverland!" A cheer went up, carried by all the crew of the Nymph, hats and scarves flying through the air to land on the deck along with several shots fired from pistols into the air. As the voices died down, Peter advanced on the group of people standing by the mast.

"What is this Aramis? The prophecy is not fulfilled and we have a battle ahead to wrest back what is rightfully mine."

"We know it Peter...but we also know that there will only be one King of Neverland and we're looking at him."

Peter stared at Aramis, flanked by Stubbs on his right and Harry on his left, the rest of the crew ranged on either side, swarthy faces split with wide, approving grins.

"Hook is on the move and will be in these waters in under four hours. We have a fight to plan for and a battle to win."

"Never doubted it lad...we're ready for whatever he throws at us."

"The stores are checked, the guns run out, the powders dry." Stubbs announced, saluting smartly despite the grin still plastered to his face.

"Thank you Mister Stubbs, I knew I could rely on you to keep everything ship shape. Gentlemen, we need to go over our plans if we are to succeed."

Peter turned away from his Council of war and faced Wendy who had remained silent throughout the cheers. "I'll have to spend the next few hours with Aramis and my officers."

"I know...I'll lend Harry a hand and make sure Cook has a meal ready for you all...you can't fight on an empty stomach."

Hearing the thread of fear in her voice, albeit bravely held in check, Peter leant forward and kissed her lovingly, their lips clinging when they parted before he turned his back on her and left with his men. Harry remained behind as the crew dispersed, sauntering over with his hands jammed in his pockets.

"If you follow me I'll show you what need to be done."

Nodding, Wendy cast a last look over her shoulder at the dark rock looming over the ship, remembering the wonderful afternoon she'd just spent in Peter's arms. Resolutely she once more faced forward and followed Harry, swiping at her cheeks as tears stung her eyes.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

The Nymph sailed a half hour later, turning towards open water as she rounded Skull Rock and headed out to sea. Clouds were massing on the horizon and Wendy watched their build up with apprehension. A full moon was rising in the sky, its bright face highlighting the waves and carving a glittering path across the surface of the ocean. The Nymph was fully rigged with every yard of sail straining in the brisk wind sending her skimming through the water, her crew scrambling about the foot ropes in the rigging, checking the lines for snags and the sheets for tears. One man was already up the main mast in the fighting top, his eyes scanning the ocean for any sign of the Jolly Roger from his position in the crows nest. They were running without lights, relying on Peter's abilities to tell them when Hook and his ship were near at hand, the moon providing enough light for everyone to move around topside with ease. On the gun deck it was dark and shadowy, the men working to get each cannon ready for firing with only the moonlight coming through the gun ports to provide illumination. Stubbs moved among them, checking the shot, the tension on the ropes and the position of the powder kegs, the gun crews as ready as they'd ever be. Wendy listened to all the preparations with a heavy heart, her fear of the upcoming battle out weighed by her fear for Peter's life, her own held for little account if he should fall or be killed. She knew she was to stay close to Harry when they engaged the Jolly Roger, the Ship's Surgeon commissioned to protect her and get her to safety if the battle didn't go their way, Wendy expected to stay holed up in one of the cabins until the fighting was over.

Of course she had no such plans herself, to sit meekly on the side while her future was decided above her head. Despite all Peter's assurances she still felt a strong sense of foreboding, her fears growing as each hour slipped by, her nerves strung tight as the crewmen worked around her to bring the Nymph to battle readiness.

A shout made her jump and she twisted to stare up at the main mast, the man aloft shouting down to the main deck, his voice shrill with excitement.

"Sail off the port bow...sail off the port bow!"

Before the man's call had faded the first mate was on deck and bellowing orders to the crew, the men scurrying faster about their business, strapping on weapons that glinted wickedly in the moonlight. Wendy stood frozen on the forecastle, staring straight ahead, her eyes attempting to find the sail the man had seen. Warm hands landed on her shoulders and she jumped.

"Almost time to go below." Peter whispered against her cheek, pressing his lips to her temple.

"I'm scared Peter."

"Have you so little faith in me?" She could hear the smile in his voice taking the sting out of his words.

"Is there no other way?"

"None...Hook wants a battle, to prove that he is King of these dominions, the Keeper is supporting him, but neither have the right. The Oracle and its mate, along with your pendant were only ever tokens to seal what was always meant to be...I don't need them to be what I was destined to be...but they belong to Neverland and I intend to return them to their rightful place." He turned her around to face him, his eyes intent on hers. "Hook would never let it rest, not with the Keeper urging him on. I defeated him once..."

"With my help..."

"With your help" Peter acknowledged,"...and I can defeat him again. We are not meeting as we did last time, as man and boy, he has no power over me as he did then. Now we meet as equals, as men...right against wrong, good against evil...the age old battle that can have only one outcome."

"You are so sure, you put me to shame with my doubts." Resting her head on his chest, Wendy wound her arms around his waist and hugged him close.

"I am only sure of one thing...my love for you." Cupping her face, he tilted it up before lowering his head to kiss her, their lips speaking their hearts more eloquently than words ever could.

"Sail ahoy...ten degrees of the port bow and closing fast!"

The cry from aloft galvanized the crew into action, Peter hustling Wendy down from the forecastle to the main deck and passing her into Harry's capable hands before vaulting once more up the ladder to the forecastle to watch the approach of the Jolly Roger. The moon still shone high in the sky, the clouds on the horizon still banking and building but not yet blocking the moon that provided the eerie light for the battle to come. Below decks the gun captains prepared their glowing slow match's, the men tense as they readied the guns to fire, all heads turned to watch Mister Stubbs, his arm raised as the distance between the two ships closed, the watch calling the distance as the Nymph skimmed over the waves, still running in darkness.

A warning flash from the Jolly Roger had everyone ducking for cover as the small shot from the bow chaser cannon fizzed through the rigging, leaving a burning hole in two of the sheets before missing the ship and sending up a plume in the sea behind.

"They have our range Mister Arrow...bring her around!" Peter's call to the helmsmen brought the prow of the ship veering to the left, the two ships apparently heading for a collision before Hook also veered to the left bringing both ships to bear broadside.

"FIRE!"

The order brought a volley of cannon fire that deafened everyone as both ships let loose with their deadly round shot, both ships suffering direct hits that sent deck and rail flying into the air, splinters shooting off like arrows to bury themselves in the timber planks like deadly darts.

"Bring her around to starboard!" Peter yelled, jumping down to the main deck and running for the stairs up to the quarterdeck. The helmsman swung the wheel and the Nymph heeled to starboard, digging deeply into the waves, spray soaking those clearing the wreckage off the main deck.

"Ready another volley Mister Stubbs!" Peter called, the powder monkey relaying the order below decks as the gun crews feverishly prepared their weapons for another salvo. The Jolly Roger had also taken damage, but, as with the Nymph, it didn't slow her down, the ship also turning for another pass. The Nymph was a little quicker on the turn and they were approaching the Jolly Roger before the ship had completed its wheel to port. With the enemy's guns pointing uselessly out to sea the Nymph was able to come closer and fire a broadside, the smoke obscuring the Jolly Roger as they sailed pass, a few shots from the enemy just nicking the mizzen mast and poop deck, Peter and the crew at the helm ducking to avoid the flying debris. This time the damage to the Jolly Roger was more substantial. Several of the cannon had loaded chain-shot which had wrapped itself around one of Hook's masts and brought it down to tangle on the main deck, causing maximum confusion. Below decks the gun crews cheered before hurrying to prepare the guns for a third volley.

As they tacked to port they could see that the Jolly Roger was starting to list, her crew scrambling to clear the wreckage off the deck and over the side to allow them to manoeuver once more and bring the ship around.

"Bring us within hailing distance Mister Arrow, but don't allow her to get us broadside."

"Aye aye sir." The helmsman spun the huge ships wheel and brought the Nymph around.

"Reef the main sail!" Peter called, his hand cupped around his mouth as the rigging crew scrambled up the halyard and dropped the main sheet, reefing it to the yardarm. As they approached the badly listing pirate ship, a lone carronade fired on the Nymph, splintering her bow sprit and all but destroying the elegant figurehead in the shape of a mermaid.

Peter stood with his legs braced as they swept past the bow of the Jolly Roger, the pirate crew screaming their defiance at the Nymph despite their badly damaged ship, Peter scanning the deck for any sign of Hook.

Cupping his hands around his mouth he shouted to the other ship.

"I have come for what it mine...hand them over and you are free to go!"

As they passed several musket balls whizzed over their heads, Aramis and Peter ducking for cover, several shots burying themselves in the mizzen mast behind them.

"I don't think they want to co-operate Captain." Aramis observed, raising his head as they sailed out of range. Peter grinned at the older man and straightened, staring back at the Jolly Roger as they circled to return. Lifting his spy glass he trained it on the ship as they swept around, Peter still not able to spot his nemesis among the motley crew scurrying about the deck of the pirate ship.

"I don't see Hook anywhere...not like him to hide when there's a fight to be had." Peter remarked, handing the telescope to Aramis who made his own observation of the enemy.

When he lowered the spy glass he raised an eyebrow at Peter.

"You did say you could sense him...is he there now?"

Peter closed his eyes for a moment. "He is...but he isn't," He frowned in concentration as the Nymph plowed through the waves back towards the stricken ship. Above their heads the moon suddenly disappeared, the storm that had been hovering on the horizon had blown over them and now covered most of the sky, the sea starting to heave as the distance between the ships narrowed. "There's something else on the ship...I can't...quite...make out what."

In the sudden gloom they could see several lights bobbing in the water, as the pirate crew started to abandon ship, the Jolly Roger listing badly, her masts leaning over at a forty five degree angle to starboard.

"I have to go aboard." Peter suddenly announced, striding over to the ladder leading to the main deck and vaulting down it, Aramis right behind him.

"You can't go alone...I'm coming with you!"

"Never doubted you would...Mister Stubbs?" Peter called to the first mate who had appeared on deck to see what was going on. He looked up at the sky then at Peter who was rummaging in the weapons locker.

"Aye Peter...What's to do?"

"I'm going aboard...the ship is listing badly and I can't afford to lose the Oracle to the sea...Aramis is coming with me..."

"I'll not let you go without me!" Stubbs shouted indignantly, pulling out his cutlass with one hand and a knife in the other.

Peter grinned wolfishly and rounded on the men gathered amidships, all of them armed to the teeth.

"Half of the crew have abandoned ship, but that still leaves the rest to deal with. Get ready with the grappling hooks and lines, we're boarding the Jolly Roger as soon as we come alongside. Helmsman?" Peter shouted up to Mister Arrow who waved and spun the wheel to heel the Nymph towards the listing pirate ship and bring her alongside. Peter and the crew braced themselves for the impact, the two ships grinding together with a horrendous shriek of tortured timbers, the ropes with their wickedly hooked metal barbs sailing over the rail to grab at the other ships decking, keeping the ships connected and allowing Peter to leap over the side and onto the deck of the Jolly Roger.

He was quickly followed by a third of the Nymph's crew along with Captain Aramis and Mister Stubbs, all yelling with blood curdling ferocity to be met by equally ferocious pirates hell bent on repelling the invaders despite their doomed vessel.

Peter slashed and parried his way across amidships and over the tangled debris still laying on the deck, his destination the Captain's cabin under the poop deck. Behind him Aramis kept any pirates off Peter's back while Mister Stubbs ably defended his flank, the rest of the crew keeping the pirates bailed up as much as possible to prevent them escaping on to the Nymph or following after Peter.

Reaching the splintered remains of the door leading below, Peter sheathed his broadsword but kept a wickedly sharp long stiletto in his grip. Warily, Aramis at his back, Peter headed in, his eyes narrowed as he adjusted to the near darkness of the passageway, a single lantern swaying drunkenly overhead as the ship groaned in its death throws, the rising waves battering the old ship on all sides.

"We can't stay long on her Peter...she's listing badly and likely to go down at any time."

"I'm aware of the peril, just watch my back!"

"As if I'd do anything else lad." Aramis retorted, backing into the corridor and watching the rear. Peter made his way unmolested to the door of Hook's cabin, the ornate name plate now dull with neglect. Pushing open the door he cautiously stepped within, his knife at the ready. Aramis was close behind but as Peter cleared the door frame the heavy wood slammed shut in the old Captains face, shutting him off from Peter.

"Hey! Open the door!" Pounding uselessly, Aramis ground his teeth in helpless frustration, cursing roundly as he signaled for one of the crewmen of the Nymph to find a battering ram, Mister Stubbs already putting his formidable shoulder to the door in an attempt to batter it down himself.

While blows rained down on the door from the outside, Peter stood just inside, his back to the self same door, his eyes darting around the room to find his enemy.

"Peter Pan..." Hook's familiar drawl came to him from the shadows at the end of the large cabin, the few candles still burnings not able to light all the corners. "Or should I call you, Your Majesty!"

"Call me what you like Hook...I've come for what's mine."

"And how predictable you were, to be sure..." From the far corner Peter could see the red glow of a cigar end, but nothing more. "How neatly you walked into my trap, like a well tamed goat!"

"I think you have it the wrong way around Hook. Your ship is lost and already foundering, if you linger in here, you'll go down with it."

"How positively gothic. Can't say I was ever that noble or self sacrificing...leave all that to the rabble who serve me."

Peter advanced a step into the room, his eyes checking the shadows for any indication there was anyone else in the room.

"We are quite alone brat...just Hook to worry about this time."

"As if I'd believe anything you have to say...hand over the Oracle and let's have done with this farce."

"Aaaah yes...that redoubtable article of prophecy. And of course, you'll be wanting its mate and that pretty trinket you gave to your lady love...how is dearest Wendy?"

"Don't speak her name..."

"Did you know she had aspirations to become a pirate? Red Handed Jill to be precise...I think she thought it would be quite a lark."

"Why are you stalling?" Peter suddenly asked, advancing further into the room. Suddenly the deck shifted under his feet and he staggered, the Jolly Roger keeling over in the heavy sea, Hook's belongings starting to slide to one side of the cabin, a candle falling to the floor and snuffing out, plunging the room into more shadows.

"Stalling? I'm just waiting." The glow of the cigar flared brightly and Peter caught a glimpse of Hook's highlighted features, as saturnine as usual, painted with a leer that bordered on triumphant.

"Waiting for what?" Peter heard a faint noise above the hammering on the door and glanced over his shoulder but saw nothing.

"For the other player in our little game to appear..." Hook's gloating voice slithered over Peter's nerves and made him shudder, his grip on his knife turning his knuckles white.

"Where is the Oracle?" Peter asked again. He saw the cigar flare then move in a arc before being stubbed out, Hook rising from his chair and advancing on Peter, appearing from the shadows with a broad leer painting his dark features.

"Where you can't reach it...but I get ahead of myself. I propose that we fight this out as gentlemen...in surroundings," Hook glanced around his chaotic cabin. "Less cluttered. Then we can decide who is to be crowned while the loser is consigned to perdition and a lifetime spent between the living and the dead."

Peter could see red flames in Hook's eyes, the pirate Captain not attempting to reach for his sword or defend himself in anyway.

"And where do you propose is a suitable venue for this final confrontation?"

Hook's features contorted into a ghastly grin, the flames flickering wildly in his dark eyes. "Where none but ourselves would be present."

Peter held his knife at the ready, not trusting Hook one inch. "And the outcome would be final?"

"Indubitably."

"Why should I not just finish you now?" Peter challenged him, his knife held high as Hook advanced another step until the point of the stiletto pressed into the snowy folds at the pirates neck.

"Then end it...Peter Pan. But remember you tried to put an end to James Hook once before, and like a Phoenix I arose again to haunt you. Are you prepared to wait for my reappearance, for I promise you, I will return...again, and again, and again."

The hammering on the door was becoming frenetic with several voices calling Peter's name. He wavered and it was all Hook needed. Peter's wrist was suddenly clamped in Hook's left hand, the wicked hook in his right slamming a glancing blow on Peter's head that stunned him enough for Hook to pull him close in a dreadful parody of an embrace. While Peter fought to free himself a glow started to surround them, emanating from Hook's chest and quickly encompassing them in bright, golden light that just as suddenly winked them both out of existence, leaving the cabin empty of life just as the door finally gave in to persuasion, Aramis and Stubbs lurching into the room and calling Peter's name.

None answered their frantic calls.

With a groan the ship beneath their feet started to tilt alarmingly, the crew of the Nymph already beating a hasty retreat back to the main deck even as Stubbs and Aramis searched Hook's cabin in vain.

"It's no good...we have to leave now or go down with this hulk!" Stubbs shouted at Aramis and tugged at him, pulling the older man out of the cabin. They ran along the heaving passageway and up onto the rain lashed deck. They were the last to leave the dying ship, the crew having taken the last of the defeated pirates into custody after binding their hands and conveying them to the Nymph. The Jolly Roger was starting to break up under them, Stubbs and Aramis vaulting over the railing and into the waiting arms of the crew, many blades slashing at the grappling ropes to free the two ships as the Jolly Roger started her death throws, her rigging waving violently in the rising wind as the ships started to drift away from each other.

Aramis and Stubbs looked on in horror as the ship appeared to rise up out of the water when a huge waves crashed over it, the backwash sending the Nymph even further away as the crew watched the Jolly Roger give a shudder before starting to sink from sight. A candle must have ignited something in the Captain's cabin because a blaze could be seen through the windows as the forecastle started to dip below the waves, the ships stern rising up out of the water, the sound of splintering and grinding of timber barely heard above the crash and boom of the thunder. Lightning illuminated the hellish sight, both pirates and crewmen removing their head gear in respect for the ship about to slip below the waves, everyone watching regardless of the driving, icy rain and howling winds that lashed them . The flames aboard the Jolly Roger had engulfed the stern of the ship, a loud explosion and plume of dark smoke telling of a supply of powder exploded by the flames, the ship half sunk as waves continued to batter and seethe around her.

For a long moment the ship seemed to teeter on the brink of being, the stern quite clear of the water, its rudder lifted out of the waves. It remained thus until all of a sudden it slipped under the water, the masts snapping and sending ropes flinging through the air like whips, splinters and shards raining down on the surface of the ocean as the ship sank, the hiss of flames being doused the last sound before the Jolly Roger disappeared beneath the sea, debris all that remained to mark her resting place.

For a moment no-one aboard the Nymph spoke or moved, then Mister Stubbs started to organize the prisoners, some to be taken down to the brig, the remainder to be chained in the hold until they returned to Neverland. The two boats that had abandoned the ship were now being towed behind, their occupants holding on for grim life as the waves threatened to swamp them. It was too rough to try and get the men aboard so Aramis ordered that they remain secured to the stern and take their chances until the Nymph could outrun the storm and find calmer waters. As the deck started to clear a slim figure appeared on deck, her dress quickly becoming soaked in the driving rain, the Doctor trying to restrain her with little success.

Breathless, Wendy staggered to where Aramis and Stubbs stood by the rail.

"Where's Peter?" She demanded, staring at both men but seeing nothing to comfort her in their impassive faces. "Where is he?" She screamed, the wind snatching her voice as she stared beyond the men to the heaving sea. Seeing no sign of the pirate ship she whipped around, seeing the last of the pirates being lead below decks. Correctly guessing why they were aboard, Wendy turned back to the two men in front of her. "It sank?"

"Like a stone." Aramis told her, his hand reaching out to her, but Wendy jerked away as if stung.

"Was Peter on it?"

Stubbs and Aramis exchanged a look and Wendy started to back away, her head shading from side to side in denial.

"NO!" Her scream made both men flinch.

"He went on board lass...into Hook's cabin, but when we broke in they were both gone." Aramis tried to explain but Wendy couldn't, or wouldn't hear him.

"You were supposed to watch his back...he was supposed to come back safely..." She kept taking small steps backwards, her hands coming up to cover her face then just as suddenly jerking back down, her eyes blazing out of her pale face. "Is he dead?" She shouted at them, "Does this mean he's dead?" She indicated the raging storm, the ship staggering as they breached several large waves. Wendy also staggered, almost losing her footing, Aramis reaching out to steady her even as Stubbs did the same. Snatching herself out of their reach she stared at them accusingly, her tears invisible in the pounding rain.

Staring up at the clouds now obscuring the moon, Wendy screamed at the heavens, her cry swallowed up by a boom of thunder that almost deafened everyone left above decks. A huge flash of lightning made Aramis and Stubbs shield their eyes, when they looked again Wendy lay in a crumpled heap on the slippery deck, sprawled like a broken doll at their feet. Scooping her up Stubbs carried the insensible girl across the bucking deck to the passageway leading to the Captains' cabin. There he lay his dripping burden on the rumpled bed, Wendy's face devoid of all colour, her breathing shallow. Harry was not far behind and he pushed his way into the cabin, shoving Stubbs out of the way.

"Get out both of you, I'll have to strip her if she's not to catch her death...get me as many dry towels as you can lay your hands on and get this ship into calmer waters as soon as possible...hurry!"

Both Aramis and Stubbs hastened to do the Doctor's bidding, all rank forgotten in the disastrous aftermath of what should have been Peter's triumph. Harry stripped Wendy of her soaked dress, wrapping her in the bed blankets and chafing her hands and feet to induce some warmth into her frozen limbs. Stubbs returned with the towels and a bottle of brandy, informing Harry that the Nymph was heading in towards land and calmer waters, the storm already weakening the closer to Neverland they sailed. Harry sent Stubbs away to get himself into dry clothes, using the towels to dry Wendy's hair, before he stripped the bed and lay fresh bedding, lifting his insensible patient into the dry linen and tucking it firmly around her. It was hard to tell the difference between Wendy's face and the pillows, her lips almost as colorless as her cheeks. He tried to trickle some of the spirits between her lips but it only dribbled out the corners and he didn't persist, not wanting to choke her. While he worked, above decks the crew of the Nymph fought to bring the ship through the storm to safety, the waves finally subsiding until the clouds once more parted and moonlight shone bright and clear on the ship and its weary crew.

Exhausted, Aramis relinquished the helm to another member of the ship's company and went to find a bunk to lay down on. The moon was setting as the Nymph finally sailed into safe harbour in a cove aptly named Pebble Bay, the foreshore made up of small, multicolored rocks rather than sand. In the Captain's cabin Wendy lay as one dead, beside her side Harry dozed, his head against the side of the bed, his hand loosely holding his patients wrist, the faint pulse beating beneath the thin cover of flesh keeping his hopes alive even as he despaired at the dreadful cost of that nights work.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

TBC...


	17. Flights of Fancy

29/10/05 

Title: To Have and To Hold

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Seventeen - Flights of Fancy.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

He was back amongst the stars, their brightness buoying him, holding him up with their radiance. He knew they were far away, but even with that understanding he felt they enfolded him, cocooned him, crushed him within their cold embrace until he felt at one with them, as insubstantial as their glow.

He floated weightlessly among their pinpricks of light, his body unfettered by gravity or ground, his limbs unattached to his torso, more like gossamer wings, lazily stirring the air around him as he hung, suspended in time and space among the stars.

For the first time in many years he felt free.

Laying there he let his mind float as free as his body, a voice calling his name, at first faintly, but getting stronger the more he concentrated. Opening his eyes he stared at the stars within the field of his vision, one appearing brighter than the rest, its glow starting to pulsate the longer he stared at it. Feeling drawn he gathered his energy and started towards the singular brightness, his body adapting itself quickly to its new state, muscles remembering how they used to be, unbound by the earth, free to inhabit the sky and fly to the stars.

Even as he listened to the voice calling his name, his mind rejoiced and he screamed inwardly, "I can fly!"

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Wendy stirred with Peter's name on her lips, her eyelashes fluttering as she regained consciousness. Her vision, when it cleared, was full of anxious faces, Mister Stubbs, Harry and Aramis all standing around the bed and conveying varying expressions of concern and despair. As her eyes alighted on each face a smile blossomed just for her, responding to the one tilting her own mouth.

"He's alive..."

Briefly, the trio were struck mute, then Aramis was the first to speak. "How...where...?'

Wendy smiled even wider. "He's flying...among the stars..."

The men all exchanged cautiously optimistic looks. Wendy gathered her strength and tried to sit up. Harry instantly placed his hands on her shoulders to prevent her.

"Hey not so fast young lady..."

Wendy stared up at the Doctor, her eyes dancing. "You don't have to worry...I'm fine...really."

"Let me be the judge of that, if you please. Do you remember what happened before you fainted?"

Wendy frowned slightly as she tried to recall the memory. "I was on the deck, there was a storm and the Jolly Roger had sunk. I thought Peter was dead...but he isn't, he's up there." She looked up at the ceiling of the cabin, her eyes glowing. "He's up there and he's flying!"

Wendy tried to sit up again and this time Harry helped her, keeping his arm around her shoulders until she was able to sit on the side of the bed without feeling any dizziness, the bedding clutched firmly against her chest. She brushed him off with a smile and sat for a moment, getting her bearings. Aramis shooed Harry off the bed and sat down in his place.

"Now lass...apart from knowing that yon laddie is not dead...is there anything else you can tell us?"

"If you give me the thimble I might be able to tell you more."

Surprised, Aramis dug into the small pocket of his waistcoat and pulled out the chain with its thimble pendant. "How did you...?"

"I thought Peter had that?" Stubbs interjected. Aramis shook his head.

"He gave it to me for safe keeping. How did you know lass?"

"I just knew." Taking it from his hand Wendy slipped it over her head, the thimble nestling snuggly between her breasts.

"But won't that take you away, the same as the acorn did?" Stubbs asked worriedly.

"No...the acorn is the traveler...this is the speaker...it's the same with the books...one transports, the other talks."

"You seem to be remarkably well informed." Harry quipped, as bemused as the others.

Wendy stared off in to space for a second before refocusing on the men around her. "I can't explain it, I just know..."

"Well I know, that if you're feeling better we should see about getting something to eat and drink inside you and something to wear other than this sheet." Harry announced, looking pointedly at the Captain and the first mate. Seeing the look the two men started to leave. Wendy caught Aramis's sleeve before he moved away.

"Where are we?"

"We're anchored in Pebble Beach cove. The storm blew itself out, thankfully and we were just making a few repairs while we waited for a sign from you or...or...er..as to what to do next."

"Oh...how long was I out for."

"Several hours." Harry informed her, sitting down beside her again and peering anxiously into her face. "Do you feel dizzy at all? Any nausea?"

Wendy shook her head, her hair settling around her shoulders both front and back like a cloak.

"Well then...I'll see about getting you a change of clothes and sort out something for your breakfast...something light I'm thinking."

"Thank you Harry...I'm sorry to be such a burden for you."

"Never a burden...now sit quietly, and I'll be back in a tick."

Submitting to his well meaning cossetting, Wendy waited patiently while he fetched her a fresh dress and underthings. All the time now she could sense Peter in her mind, his unbridled joy at having regained his ability to fly, her lips curling into a smile as his feelings were transferred to her, his jubilation bursting from every pore, buzzing with energy and vitality.

Harry returned and wondered anew at Wendy's quick recovery. He was sure that she would be ill for some days after her collapse on the deck, but she looked for all the world as if she'd just drunk a rejuvenating potion that illuminated her from the inside out. Passing over the bundle of clothes he left her once more and hurried off to find Aramis, to get his thoughts on what had happened.

Wendy sat for a long moment after the cabin door closed and just stared at the scarred wood with its metal studs, her gaze unfocused. Dropping the clothes onto the bed she lay back down, the sheet still clutched to her chest with one hand while the other wrapped itself around the thimble, the tiny metal pendant instantly warming like a tiny spark against her fingers, the heat not painful, the metal infusing her hand with a glow that spread up her arm and then all through her body. In a state of bliss, Wendy closed her eyes and let herself drift. Almost at once she gasped out loud, her eyes still tight shut, but in her mind she was soaring among the stars, the bright lights set against a velvet black sky which swirled and dipped about her head in a dizzying pinwheel as her body appeared to twist and dive in intricate patterns. She could feel his euphoria and wanted to laugh out loud with him, but instead she tried to ignore the sensation of flying and call to him using her mind.

Peter...can you hear me?

Abruptly his erratic movements slowed and she heard in her mind his reply. Wendy?

It's me Peter...I know where you are.

She could feel his puzzlement and surprise, then a sharp spike of heat suddenly washed over her and she blushed and shivered. Peter!

His laugh filled her mind as he shot up into the sky and turned a somersault. I can fly Wendy...I can fly!

I know you can...I'm flying with you

Isn't it wonderful...I'd forgotten how wonderful it was

It is wonderful Peter...I wish I was with you.  
P.  
But you are Wendy...I can feel you, hear you in my mind.

I have the thimble...I think it's acting like a bridge between us.

Between Neverland and the Never Realm?

That's where you are, isn't it?

I suppose so...it looks the same as when we were here last

Do you have the acorn?

No...Hook has that.

Where is Hook, Peter...is he with you?

If he was, I don't somehow think I'd be flying around like I am, do you?

What about the Keeper?

Nope...no sign of either of them...which is odd.

She could feel his curiosity rise, his memories replaying the last moments aboard the Jolly Roger, the indecision when faced with Hook, the blow that stunned him, then the glow that encompassed them both before Peter woke up alone and wrapped in starlight.

I suppose I'll have to go and look for them.

Be careful Peter...they still mean to harm you...

They'll have to catch me first!

His cocky assurance made her smile broadly, almost seeing the smirk tugging his lips apart before the stars started to whirl around her again in a gyrating dance.

I have to go Peter...they need me here...they're worried about me.

Is there anything to worry about?

No...but they worry all the same. They want to know when you're coming back to us. Back to me.

I have things to do Wendy...Keepers to find and Hook's to battle.

Don't forget me Peter...don't forget Neverland needs you to.

Trust me Wendy...I could never forget you.

A warm glow flowed through her, igniting tingling awareness along all her nerve endings and leaving her breathless.

I love you too Peter.

Within her fingers the thimble's glow started to fade and Wendy slowly opened her eyes, loathe to break the connection but knowing it was already done. Opening her hand she looked at the innocent trinket and smiled, murmuring, "thank you."

"Care to tell me what that was all about?"

Captain Aramis was seated in the chair beside the bed, his face creased in lines of worry.

"I was just talking to Peter," Wendy explained, her smile fading as Aramis continued to look worried. "What's the matter?"

"You've been in a trance for hours lass. When Harry came back he found you laying there like a statue, your hand clutching the pendant, your eyes closed as if asleep. He couldn't wake you."

"Oh...but I was only talking to Peter for a few moments."

"Three hours. He's only just gone to get something to eat and snatch a breath of fresh air while I watched over you."

"Three hours?" Wendy gaped at the Captain round eyed. "Oh dear."

Lifting her head she saw the clothes Harry had brought for her to wear.

"I suppose I'd better get dressed and get up."

"Are you sure you feel up to it?"

"Oh yes...but I'll need you to turn your back. I'll tell you what Peter said while I get dressed."

Mollified somewhat by her pragmatic attitude, Aramis did as requested and stared stolidly at the cabin wall while Wendy pulled on the clothes, all the time telling the erstwhile Captain what had transpired during her communication with Peter.

"So he still means to fight Hook?" Aramis queried, turning around at Wendy's request to find her fully dressed and attempting to brush out the snarls in her long hair.  
P.  
"Of course...whatever he may have been, or ever will be, he's still Peter Pan...fighting Hook is like breathing for him."

"Unless it gets him killed." Aramis remarked morosely.

"Oh I don't see that happening. I think Hook has done Peter a good turn, by default, by kidnapping him to the Never Realm. It appears to have recognized who Peter is and removed him from harm as well as given him back the gift of flight. Whatever the Keeper had planned is obviously at odds with what the Never Realm is there for, so it is protecting Peter. I can only suppose it's something like his control of the weather here in Neverland...some sort of..." She paused, "I know there's a word for it, I read it once in a scientific journal..." She frowned heavily, trying to recall the name.

"You don't mean symbiosis?" Aramis suggested. Wendy nodded, "That's the word...living together in harmony, Peter and his world. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I suppose you must be right. He can certainly influence the weather, so it is not surprising if that extends to the other two kingdoms of Neverland."

"The Keeper said that Peter was to be the Peacekeeper of the Never Worlds, the Ruler of the Three Kingdoms. Neverland is one, the Never Realm the second...what or where is the third?"

Aramis shrugged, "I don't know...under the sea?"

"I wish I'd had the wit to ask the merman when we were there, I have a feeling he would have known the answer."

"Merman?"

Struck by a thought, Wendy clutched at Aramis's sleeve. "Did Peter bring on board a round rock, carved with a map of the underground?"

"As it so happens he did."

"I have an idea. The merman we met under the mountain said it was one of his greatest treasures. I thought he meant because it was a map of his domain, but what if there was something else very special about it?"

"We'll ask Stubbs, he was the one who told me about it. I haven't seen this rock myself, so maybe Peter told him where he put it."

They hurried out of the cabin and up on deck, Wendy blinking at the bright, sunlit water lapping serenely all around them. Aramis was hailing the first mate who leapt down the steps from the poop deck and hurried over.

"What is it? What's the matter?"

"The carved stone that Peter showed you, you told me about it, where did he put it?"

Stubbs looked blankly at the pair for a second then snapped his fingers.

"The chart room."

Stubbs led them back to the Captain's cabin and the small annex on the side. The first mate rummaged beneath the map table and produced a small, iron bound chest. Throwing back the lid he groped inside and lifted out the round, dull rock with its intricately carved exterior.

"A merman's treasure for sure." Aramis breathed, taking the rock from Mister Stubbs and running his fingers over the carvings. "And this is what you used to find your way out of the caves?"

Wendy nodded, waiting for the older man to look his fill of the artifact before holding out her hand.

Turning it over, Wendy looked carefully at the carvings, noting the delicate tracery and almost invisible cracks that snaked over the surface. "I think there might be something inside." She finally announced, frowning in concentration.

The two men drew closer as Wendy traced a particular seam with the nail of one finger. Where it formed a junction with several other lines there appeared to be an indentation, which Wendy now pressed with the tip of her finger. For a second or two nothing happened, then the rock started to vibrate in her hands, the hair-line crack starting to widen as they watched.

"Maybe you should put it down on the table lass!" Aramis suggested, backing away as light seeped out of the cracks.

Wendy apparently agreed, setting the rock down gingerly on the map table and stepping backwards as the ball continued to split apart, light flooding out of the rock in ever widening slices. With a loud crack the sections of carved stone fell away to lay inert upon the tables surface, leaving a glowing ball behind that floated an inch off the maps, softly pulsating.

"Oh my."

"Cor blimey...didcha see that?"

"I see...of course," this comment from Aramis brought two pairs of eyes around to stare at him.

"You know what this is?" Wendy asked.

"I can guess. I've only ever heard little bits about it...if I'm correct it's a Nexus."

Stubbs gave the Captain a blank look.

"A Nexus is a connecting point, a joining of all points in one place"  
Aramis explained, leaning forward to take a better look.

"But what can we do with it?" Wendy asked, peering around the first mate's bulk to stare at the glowing ball.

"Look at the thimble Wendy...it's glowing!"

Looking down, she could clearly see the outline of the thimble through the thin material of her dress. Pulling on the chain she drew it out, the light becoming brighter until it was clear, then it started to float, still on the chain, but several inches away from Wendy's body.

"What now?" Stubbs asked a trifle hoarsely, his expression wary.

Before anyone could answer, a booming voice erupted into the small cabin, startling them all.

"Who calls to me? Speak and I will answer."

Wendy stared at the Captain and first mate with wide eyes. "That's the voice of the Merman, the Emerald Guardian...but I can understand him now...before he was speaking in mer-tongue and it sounded like someone gargling rocks."

"Sorry lass...but he stills sounds like he's gargling rocks...I can't understand a word!"

Both Aramis and Stubbs looked to Wendy who stared back as the men in surprise.

"Oh. Oh dear."

"Speak, whoever is there." The booming voice called again, jerking Wendy from her wandering thoughts.

"Oh yes...er...this is Wendy...Captain Pan's...er...mate."

A booming chuckle filled the cabin and both men winced.

"So, Mate of Pan, you discovered the secret of my treasure. Does the Pan know you are using it?"

"Well no...Peter is in the Never Realm, he was taken there by Hook and the Keeper, but he's free now and flying again."

"What is it you wish to know Pan's Mate?"

"Oh...er...the Keeper mentioned three kingdoms of Neverland...we know of two, where, or what is the third?"

"The Kingdoms of Neverland are indeed three, the first is of the island you are living within, a world of the senses where both mortal and magical exist in harmony with one King to rule them all. The second is the Realm of the Void where only the ephemeral and ethereal exist for a brief span, a transitory place where living matter can exist only while passing through. If the Pan is in this place he cannot stay there very long before becoming one with the void, as would any mortal sent there. The third Kingdom is the Realm of Magic, a place that nurtures the power of magic to create or destroy, wielded by all who are connected by right, as the Ruler is, or by creation, as are the magical folk who inhabit the woods and water of Neverland."

The booming voice ceased and Wendy translated the explanation for the two men, waiting while they digested the information.

Aramis spoke first.

"How is it that the Keeper has survived so long in the void, if it is only intended for temporary occupation?"

"The Keeper was banished there for crimes too legion to name, his corporeal body given up for the one you see now, his form as insubstantial as the light given off by the stars where he exists."

Aramis waited while Wendy translated the answer. "But he is able to come here, to Neverland and inhabit human bodies and cause such mischief." Aramis continued.

"Then he has added to his crimes and somehow has tapped into the third kingdom, drawing on the power of magic to allow him to do these things."

"How long can Peter stay in the Never Realm before becoming one...before he can no longer return?" Wendy asked, twisting her hands together in worry as she waited for the Merman's reply.

"One full passage of the moon through the heavens. As he is the chosen, it is possible that time will bend and grant him longer, but I cannot say for sure if that will be." Wendy waited for the booming voice to fade before translating the answer for the two men.

"One full passage...then he only has until tonight to do what he has to do and get back here." Aramis muttered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"I'll have to contact him again and let him know," Wendy cried out anxiously, reaching for the thimble still floating above her body.

"I sense that he is already engaged in the final battle, you will not be able to contact him now, Mate of Pan." The booming voice told her, sending a chill over her body and leaving her shaking.

A look of determination crossed Wendy's face and she set her lips in a grim line. "Then I'll have to go there myself and warn him."

"Nay...you can't..." Stubbs shouted.

"Wendy...it'll be too dangerous!" Aramis cautioned, both men waved to silence by the slim girl beside them.

"Emerald Guardian, can you transport me using the Nexus to where Peter is?"

"I can...but what you are about to do is dangerous and quite possibly fatal to one of your delicate form."

"I'm stronger than I look...can I take anything to help Peter?"

"Arm yourself, Mate of Pan, and be prepared to fight for your life."

"Wendy you can't..."Aramis started but stopped when he met Wendy's quelling glance.

"I can and I will...whatever it takes, I have to do it. Peter is the one that is important here...he must survive if Neverland is to survive."

"He won't see it that way if anything happens to you." Stubbs muttered darkly.

"I'll need a change of clothes and weapons. Hurry, we don't have much time, if Peter is already fighting Hook, I need to be there now!"

Wendy stayed in the cabin and waited for Stubbs and Aramis to return, which they did in short order. Quickly she changed into a shirt and breeches, a belt about her hips carrying a sword and knives, her feet thrust into boots and her hair plaited and tied off her face with a leather thong.

"A bonny pirate if ever I saw one!" Aramis remarked before standing back.

"I'm ready Guardian."

Once more the booming voice filled the cabin. "Place the thimble in your hand and approach the Nexus...walk into the light and let it take you. I will direct it to the Never Realm as close to where I feel Peter is as I can."

Backing away, Stubbs and Aramis watched as Wendy approached the glowing ball of light, the thimble now held in her hand and growing brighter the closer she approached the Nexus. Suddenly the light flared and both men fell back, covering their eyes from the glare.

When they looked again Wendy was gone, along with the glowing ball, the carved rock once more back together as before, laying innocently on the map table with no hint of its hidden power.

"What do we do now?" Stubbs asked, blinking away the spots before his eyes.

"Wait."

"Wait?" Stubbs agonized groan wrung a laugh out of Aramis, despite his dour expression.

"Wait and hope. Everything will be brought together with Wendy's arrival."

"Is there nothing we can do?"

"Prepare for the worst and hope for the best."

After exchanging a grimace the two men left the cabin and made their way up to the main deck. The sun had started its descent towards the horizon when both men looked up at the sky at the same time, as if hoping against all reason to see something, anything to indicate the progress of the decisive battle taking place within the Never Realm far beyond the fluffy white clouds currently dotting the blue expanse overhead. Despite seeing nothing more than what was expected, they kept up their vigil, the afternoon drawing ever closer to night and their hopes sinking like the sun towards the sea.

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TBC...


	18. Life and Death

2/11/05 

Title: To Have & To Hold

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Eighteen - Life and Death

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Wendy blinked, and she was there.

One moment she had been walking towards the chart table with the Captain's cabin walls about her, then she was standing on nothing, surrounded on all sides by the bright twinkle of stars.

"Oh goodness...PETER!"

Turning slowly around she looked for any sign of movement to tell her where Peter was. The Emerald Guardian had said he would send her as close to Peter as possible, but she couldn't see anything other than the velvet blackness of night and the brilliance of the diamond spangled sky.

"Where are you?" She called out to the stars, twisting around in building frustration.

A sudden blast of wind almost knocked her to her knees and she staggered, then suddenly he was there. Hastily brushing the loose hair away from her face Wendy looked up and Peter was hovering above her, laying on his side in the air as if held up by an invisible chaise longue.

"You rang, m'lady?"

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Peter righted himself and drifted down until his feet connected with the invisible surface supporting Wendy. For several seconds they just drank each other in, their eyes caught and held by the other, all else forgotten in that second of stolen time.

Licking her suddenly dry lips, Wendy tried to articulate a warning about their need to leave the Never Realm but she couldn't tear her gaze away from his, the smile painting his lips tugging a mirror image from her own. Leaning closer, Peter covered her parted lips with his and spent several pleasurable seconds reacquainting himself with their contour and taste.

"Sweet," he pronounced finally, watching Wendy's eyes slowly open and blink at him. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." As she recalled the reason she was there her eyes widened. "Peter...we have to leave this place...if we don't it will never let you go back, you'll become part of the void."

"Like the Keeper?"

"Worse..."

"Then let us leave here...now."

"I don't think so..." Hook's drawl made them spring apart, Wendy whirling around to find Hook barely a swords length away from them.

"Where were you...?" Wendy gasped, her hand fumbling for the hilt of her sword, drawing it clumsily. Peter had also drawn his sword and stood at her side.

Hook started to circle them, his hand and hook held out from his sides, his sword, as yet, undrawn. "And here I was thinking you'd be happy to see me."

Unseen by anyone, the Keeper materialized above the three protagonists, his swirling robe spreading like a malevolent cloud above their heads.

Keeping their eyes on Hook, Wendy and Peter stood side by side, their sword tips pointed at the pirate Captain's heart. Hook kept his hand and hook held out from his sides, a smile playing about his lips as he stepped slowly around them.

"Well now...we have everyone here now...the once and future King of Neverland, the usurper, his bedmate along with the acorn, thimble and the books. Did I forget anything?"

"You are the usurper Hook...the prophecy was never intended for you." Wendy spat, the sword point wavering as her anger made her hand shake. Hook merely raised an eyebrow at her and continued his slow circling.

"Semantics dear lady...the book does not specify any one in particular, so why not me? I have lived on Neverland longer than Peter, I know every rock and blade of grass better than anyone...have I not earned the right? I have died and been reborn, so who better to take the throne of Neverland?"

"He's just stalling," Wendy murmured to Peter, never once taking her eyes off Hook.

"Of course...he's hoping the Keeper will do his dirty work for him. What he doesn't know is that the Keeper is expecting him to take care of us, leaving the way clear for the Keeper to assume the mantle. Both are laboring under a delusion. There is only one ruler of Neverland and he stands here before you."

"Impudent brat...you are barely out of your leading strings, I have sailed the seven seas and commanded a ship and crew!"

"As have I..."

"You are still wet behind the ears boy...you are not yet a man."

"Again, you are wrong...I am more than man enough to defeat you Hook."

Above their heads the Keeper drew out the two books, holding one in each hand. Slowly the bound volumes rose into the air and hung suspended, starting to spin, the covers opening to reveal the blank pages within.

Finally Hook drew his sword, the intricately woven basket hilt glinting in the starlight as he cut the air, testing the blade.

"You are no King...you who hides behind a petticoat!" Hook spat, goading Peter while keeping out of reach of his opponents blade.

Wendy had bridled at Hook's slur but a quick glance from Peter quelled her urge to reply to his insults.

"I have no need of anyone to fight for me...Wendy is here by choice, can you say the same James?"

"What say you brat? Of course I am here by choice...by rights I should be ruler of three kingdoms, not some puling spawn!"

"You have no rights James...you are just a pawn in another's game." Peter taunted, shifting his blade from his right to his left hand and back again. Hook's eyes narrowed as he stopped his slow steps and faced Peter, Wendy now behind Peter's right shoulder, effectively blocked by Peter from attacking Hook's flank.

"I am no pawn...you are living in a fools paradise if you think you'll be leaving here in one piece!" Like a snake striking, Hook brought his blade to bear, slashing downwards to cleave Peter in two. Instead his blade sliced through air, his opponents having danced out of reach before advancing again and bringing their blades together with a ringing clash of metal on metal. Wendy stepped out of the way of the two men her blade still in her hand, but her eyes watching the men manoeuvre while looking for an opening. Hook cunningly kept Peter between himself and Wendy, parrying a thrust and countering with a back slash that almost found its mark, Peter ducking at the last moment to avoid the biting swing.

Above them the Keeper still hovered, his cloudy robes spread out like a grey blanket, the two books starting to gather speed as they spun faster and faster, their pages fluttering outward and making them look like whirling stars, floating above the Keepers hands.

Peter and Hook were entirely focused on each other, all else forgotten as they thrust and parried, the blades ringing against each other in almost unceasing blows, Hook's downward blows almost bringing Peter to his knees, his lightning moves keeping him out of the way of most of the jabs and thrusts testing his guard.

Despite his age Hook was barely winded as he nimbly dodged a back slash from Peter, catching and trapping his blade with his hook, bringing the two almost nose to nose, each unwilling to break the hold as they glared into each other's eyes.

"Ready to surrender yet brat?" Hook jeered, his lip curling.

"Never." Peter replied, a smirk pulling his lips upwards, twisting upwards and breaking Hook's hold on the blades, narrowing missing the pirates neck with the edge of his sword.

Hook's long hair swung away as he ducked his head, Peter's blade whistling past his face alarmingly close. Raising his own in defense he parried the next few blows, stepping back as Peter attacked, both hands wrapped around the hilt of his sword as he rained blow after blow on Hook's sword.

Wendy stood clear, her eyes fixed on the battle being waged in front of her. She still had her sword drawn, although unless Hook tried something underhand she was not going to enter the fray unless Peter fell, something she refused to dwell on at that moment. Now the sound of heavy breathing was added to the clang and clash of metal as each opponent started to feel the effects of the sustained assault, Peter's mouth held in a grim line as he blocked another blow, the force sending shockwaves up his arm. So far he hadn't resorted to flying to avoid Hook, his confidence in winning not dented despite being evenly matched with the pirate leader.

To catch their breath they parted and stepped back from each other, swords still held en garde, but for a long moment they simply regarded each other across the crossed steel.

"How long do you think you can keep this up boy?" Hook called, doing his best to control his labored breathing.

"Longer than you, old man...ready to come to terms?"

"Never." Hook replied, repeating Peter's reply to his own challenge given minutes before.

Above their heads the Keeper watched the two books start to glow, turning from paper and leather into twin balls of light. Around Wendy's neck the thimble also started to glow, pulsating with each beat of her heart as she watched the fight. The acorn, nestled against Hook's chest also started to flash in time with the pirates pulse, the two pendants starting to lift away from their wearers, the chains parting so that the two small icons lifted free from Hook and Wendy's necks to float upwards. Once again Peter and Hook paused their fight, stepping away to watch the glowing golden pendants rise up to the glowing balls of light hovering above their heads. Wendy had also tilted her head to stare upwards, her attention on what was going on above her head.

"Finish it." The Keepers rasping voice commanded.

"Finish it? Which one? They are evenly matched Keeper!" A new voice boomed out, pulling everyone around to stare as a familiar figure approached.

"The Emerald Guardian..." Wendy gasped, backing towards where Peter and Hook still stood, their fight forgotten.

The huge merman appeared to swim towards them, his muscular tail undulating as if through water, his upper torso bristling with an impressive array of spines.

"What are you doing here?" The Keeper hissed, drawing back slightly as the merman fixed his obsidian gaze on the creature above him.

"The same as you...determining the fate of the three Kingdoms."

Hook stood a little apart from Peter and Wendy and glanced up at the Keeper briefly before returning his fascinated gaze to the merman who was now standing on his tail before them, the appendage slowly moving from side to side as if treading water.

"I thought I knew all the creatures of Neverland...how is it I never met you before now?"

Fixing his unblinking gaze on the pirate, the merman bared his fearsome teeth and a rumbling sound issued from his mouth. "But you did Hook...but at the time you took me for someone else." Before their eyes the merman appeared to shimmer, his outline blurring until he transformed into a human shape and stood before them on two legs.

"Blackhearted Bart!" Hook breathed, staring at the old man standing before him. "I thought I hung you."

"You did and a pretty death it was...but Bart was already dead, long before you got your hands on him." As his audience stared, the old man's outline shimmied and blurred, the huge figure of the merman reappearing before them. "A simple trick, but effective."

"Who exactly are you?" Peter asked.

"The Keeper of the third realm. Like my smokey friend, we are merely holding in trust what is yours by right."

"It is not his yet!" Cried the Keeper, darting down to where they stood and hovering behind Hook. "This one's claim is as valid as the boys...why should he not be King!"

"As I stated before, they are evenly matched in skill, but not in nature. For too long has Hook indulged his greed and ego, fed his jealousy and hate. He has proved himself untrustworthy for the position of Ruler...as you, yourself have proved unworthy to remain Keeper of the Never Realm."

With a scream the Keeper swept his grey robed arm wide, a hard wind knocking the humans off their feet. In an instant the Keeper had smothered Hook, his essence flowing into the pirate and taking him over. As Peter and Wendy lay winded, Hook rose to his feet and grabbed Wendy by the arm and hauled her upright, her sword dropping from her hand as dizziness made the stars whirl about her head. Before Peter or the Merman could react, a knife was pressed against Wendy's throat, the pirate's hooked arm curled around her waist, pressing her close against Hook's body as a shield. Peter raised his sword and moved towards Hook, seeing the flare of red flames in the pirates eyes and the knife press into Wendy's neck, drawing blood.

"Don't be hasty boy!" Hook spat, grinning broadly. "Wouldn't want to spill your trollops blood, but I will if you don't back away!"

Peter stood still, his sword still raised and pointed at Hook, his expression grim. Wendy was straining to relieve the press of the sharp blade against her skin, her eyes wide as she stared white faced at Peter, her lips pressed together in a thin line to hold back the scream lodged in her throat.

"That's better," Hook gloated, seeing the impotent fury in Peter's face as Hook stroked the knife up and down his captives throat, Wendy's eyes closing she swallowed hard, a whimper escaping her lips. Behind Peter the Merman was watching the drama with an intent gaze, his muscular arms folded over his chest as if waiting for something to happen.

Taking a step back, Hook grinned at Peter over Wendy's shoulder, his arm tightening around her waist as he dragged her back with him. "I have no wish to find out what you have planned for me, so I'll take this body and leave you now."

"No!" Peter's voice rang out when he saw Wendy's eyes open wide in surprise as the Keeper, inside Hook, directed the pirates knife lower and plunged it into Wendy's side, piercing her heart. Like a puppet, she instantly slumped in his grip, the pirate releasing her body so that she slid to the ground. At the same time the two books still spinning brightly above the scene merged together to from one single light, the two pendants suspended above and below the brightness while they floated above the drama playing out below.

As Wendy's body slid out of Hook's grip, the Keeper found himself expelled from the pirates body through his mouth and nose, streaming out like grey water to coalesce behind Hook, who staggered but kept his feet. Hook barely had time to take in the scene before Peter's blade pierced his chest, killing him instantly so that he fell backwards with an expression of bewilderment in his blue eyes before they clouded in death.

"What have you done?" The Keeper of the Never Realm screamed, flying at the Merman who impassively gestured with one hand, the Keeper uttering a choked cry before dissipating into thin air.

Peter had fallen to his knees beside Wendy's body, his mind unable to grasp that she was dead, his sword discarded to lay beside Hook's body laying sprawled behind him. The stars appeared reflected in Wendy's sightless eyes as she stared upwards, Peter's own stinging with unshed tears as he bowed his head in silent agony, his heart feeling rent in two.

Above his head the two pendants fused with the spinning orb that was the two books, the golden glow slowly descending until it hovered just above Peter's head, gilding his hair and face with bright light that somehow didn't reach beyond his body. The Merman gestured again and the light above Peter seemed to spread, dropping down like fairy dust all over him until he glowed with an inner light as if the sun was rising within him. Peter knelt unaware and uncaring, his head bowed, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, pain etched on his youthful features as he swallowed down the scream of pain rising in his chest.

Slowly the glow inside Peter stared to fade until it disappeared completely, leaving Peter as he was, the thimble pendant once more around his neck on its gold chain, the acorn lying on the invisible ground beside Wendy's body.

As if in a dream Peter opened his eyes, unmindful of the tears starting to trickle down his face, and reached to pick up the acorn pendant. It appeared dull and old, as if not worn in many years, the acorn shriveled and black against the tarnished gold chain. It seemed to Peter to be the final proof that Wendy was now lost to him, her life as dead as the acorn pendant crushed within the palm of his hand.

"Why?"

Peter's anguished cry brought the Merman over to where he knelt.

"It was meant to be...but..." The Merman found himself cut off.

"Meant to be?" Pete echoed savagely, getting to his feet and rounding on the Merman with death in his eyes. "Meant to be? All this was not part of the prophecy. She was supposed to be with me forever, not dead!"

"An error of judgement Your Majesty..." The Merman started but found himself cut off once more.

"Don't call me that...I'm not King!" He wheeled back and stared down at Wendy's body. "Without her I'm nothing."

"But there is still..." The Merman tried to say, but Peter wasn't listening any more. Bending down he straightened Wendy's limbs before lifting her into his arms, her head lolling against his shoulder, her body limp and lifeless against his chest.

"You have the power..."

"I have nothing." Peter ground out dismissively, turning his back on the Merman and starting to walk away.

"Wait...there is no need to grieve!" The Merman called out, his hand outstretched as if to stop Peter.

The new King of Neverland and the three Kingdoms ignored the creature and continued to carry his burden, tears rolling unheeded down his face as he stared ahead, the stars blurred before his vision, his heart a stone in his chest.

Growling his frustration the Emerald Guardian let his hand drop, staring down at the body of Hook where it lay. Crooking a talon, the Merman lifted Hook's body up from the ground to lay suspended in the air. With a gesture and a muttered incantation from the Merman, Hook's body disappeared from sight, leaving the Merman to stare after Peter with his obsidian black eyes. He watched the figure in the distance until he saw it stagger and fall, then he moved, gliding towards where Peter knelt, slumped over Wendy's body, Peter's arms clasping her to him in a parody of a lovers embrace.

Not bothering to speak the Merman waved his hand and Peter, together with Wendy's body, disappeared in a flash of light. Alone among the stars, the Emerald Guardian smiled in satisfaction before waving his hand once more and disappearing from view as well, leaving the stars to shine down upon an empty stage.

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The appearance of Peter clasping Wendy's body aboard the Nymph was only witnessed by three people. Aramis, Harry and Stubbs were waiting for his arrival by the main mast, the deck for once clear of any crew but those three. Their grins of welcome quickly turned to dismay as they saw the blood soaking Wendy's shirt, her still open eyes staring without blinking up at the sails furled against the spars.

"Peter?" Aramis's shocked whisper went unheard, Peter not moving from his kneeling position on the deck, the three men edging forward after exchanging worried glances at each other.

Harry reached down and picked up Wendy's hand where it lay limply on the deck, his fingers feeling for a pulse, his head shaking when he found none.

"Peter?" Aramis asked again, this time rewarded with Peter raising his head to stare blankly at the three men surrounding him. They stared in shock at his ravaged expression, his eyes blank with grief.

Suddenly, out of the clear blue sky, flakes of white started to fall, at first melting on contact with the warm decking, but soon they were falling so thickly that they quickly coated everything in a blanket of white, the warmth of the sun unable to penetrate the chill as snow continued to fall in a smothering cascade. The three men stood impervious to the cold, their shoulders and heads quickly gathering a layer of snow, as did Peter who bent over Wendy's body, shielding her from the falling flakes, his numb fingers brushing away any that dared to fall on her still face. Soon clouds had covered the sky and snow fell continuously over Neverland, turning the world white.

Lost in his grief, Peter gathered Wendy close and tilted her face to bring her lips closer, lowering his head until his mouth covered hers, the shock of her cold flesh against his warm not stopping him from kissing her. As he pressed his lips to hers the snow started to slow until only a few flakes drifted down out of the sky, the three men shaking off their coating of white as they bore witness beside Peter.

As he continued to hold her unresponsive body, Peter felt something warm start to glow inside him, his body heating up quickly until he thought he would burst into flames. Knowing it was impossible, he pressed Wendy closer as if to pass on his heat to her and warm her chilled flesh. He continued to kiss her, his lips moving over her mouth and cheek, pressing hot kisses over her forehead and nose, all the time murmuring words of love and loss, inaudible to the men standing watch over him. Unseen by Peter, his body started to glow with a golden light that quickly melted the banked snow around him, the circle spreading wider as the glow intensified. Stubbs, Aramis and Harry watched in wonder as the deck quickly dried and itself started to glow as if gilded, the widening circle encompassing the mast and sails, the forecastle and poopdeck from the prow to the stern so that the ship appeared made of gold.

"What's happening?" Harry asked in an awestruck voice, gazing around at the transformed ship.

"Doing what the lad has always done," Stubbs replied, a grin starting to curl his lips. "Bringing life to Neverland...see?"

As the three men watched, Peter appeared to be a creature made of gold, an inner light turning him into a living flame. In his arms Wendy lay as she'd been, but as they watched faint colour started to appear on her cheeks, her lips turning from blue to red and her eyes, before so staring and blank, slowly blinked their long lashes, the pale lids closing over them as Peter pressed a kiss to each in its turn.

Barely able to believe their eyes, the men saw Wendy's chest rise and fall, her lips parting on a breath as the golden creature holding her covered her mouth with his own and she responded, her formerly limp arm rising up to wind around Peter's neck, his own arms clasping her close.

The glow was starting to fade from Peter, returning him to normal until there was no sign of light other than the sunlight now streaming down on the deck. Peter and Wendy were still clasped in a passionate embrace and Stubbs fidgeted uncomfortably as they showed no sign of stopping.

"Do you think we should..." Stubbs started to say only to be shushed by a grinning Harry and elbowed by Aramis on the other side.

The kiss finally ended. Wendy smiled tremulously up at Peter, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Peter gazed down at her with his heart in his eyes, his look of wonder causing her to catch her breath. Slowly she drew her hand back and cupped his cheek, stroking the faint dampness still coating his skin.

"I thought I was kissing a golden angel." Wendy breathed, her lips curving in a smile as Peter grinned down at her.

"No angel...just me."

Gently she smoothed her thumb over the corner of his mouth, Peter's head twisting so that he could press a kiss to her finger tips. She could feel the muscles in his arms where they pressed against her back, holding her close to his body. Against her breast she could feel his heart beating strongly through the linen of his shirt, her own beating in time with his.

Looking past Peter's curls she saw the main mast and above that the spars and sails, all of them gilded as if solid gold.

"What happened to the ship?" She asked dreamily, returning her gaze to meet his, drowning in the love shining freely from his sea green eyes.

Peter met her question with a quizzical look, his eyes flicking up to look around, widening as they took in the golden deck all around them.

Hearing a cough, Peter glanced up at the men still standing a step or two away. As if just suddenly realizing that he was sitting in the middle of the main deck clasping Wendy to his chest, Peter grinned sheepishly.

"How long have you three been standing there?"

Aramis quirked a grey eyebrow and grinned back. "Long enough to witness a miracle m'boy!" Receiving a nudge from either side, Aramis started guiltily. "I meant to say...Your Majesty." As if on cue, the three men bowed deeply in obeisance, holding their position until Peter told them to stop being idiots and quit bowing.

Wendy watched the pantomime with a bemused expression, her body suffused with a strange lassitude as she lay in Peter's arms, her mind a worrying blank before awakening in Peter's embrace, his lips warm and enticing on hers.

"Why are we laying on the deck?" She asked, blinking up at Peter.

For a second Peter frowned down at her, then his forehead cleared and he grinned at her. "I know where I'd rather be...certainly somewhere more comfortable than this." Gently he disentangled himself from their embrace and carefully, together, they rose to their feet. Wendy felt incredibly weak and leaned heavily on Peter, her head suddenly too heavy for her neck. Harry darted forward and put an arm about her waist after seeking Peter's permission in a glance and receiving a nod of assent over Wendy's head. Together they slowly made their way across the glittering deck and headed for the main cabin, Wendy almost asleep when they finally reached the Captain's cabin and lay her on the bed. Harry checked her pulse and rested a hand against her forehead.

His eyes met Peter's across the bed. "She seems fine...whatever happened to her, you seem to have reversed the effect, although looking at the amount of blood loss she may be weak for a time until she recovers her strength."

"I'll take care of her...leave us...I'll fill you all in later...but for now we need to be together."

Nodding his understanding, Harry bowed low and backed towards the cabin door, Peter smiling in amusement until the Doctor shut the door behind him.

Turning back to the bed, Peter sat on the side and leant over Wendy.

"Are you truly asleep or just resting those tired eyes?"

Blinking sleepily, Wendy gazed up at him and smiled. "Just resting."

"You need to get out of those clothes, if you're going to sleep at all comfortably."

"And what's to stop you having your wicked way with me if I do?" Wendy replied, still smiling dreamily.

"Nothing at all." Peter grinned back wickedly, his eyes dancing.

Lifting her hands, Wendy started to undo the buttons down the front of her shirt but Peter lifted her hands away, kissing the tips before placing them palm up on the pillows beside her head.

"Let me."

Keeping her eyes on his down bent head, Wendy lay still and let Peter undress her, only mildly surprised when he bundled up her shirt and flung it with force across the room. She had noted a stain before he bundled it up but he placed a finger across her lips before she could ask a question.

In silence he efficiently divested her of her remaining clothes before unplaiting her hair, letting it fall about her shoulders in disarray before sitting back to look at her. Wendy blushed rosily under his scrutiny but didn't shy away from his regard. Instead she felt her body quicken in response to his loving gaze, her eyes turning a deeper blue as her love spoke to him across the space separating them.

Still not speaking, Peter stood up and started to take off his own clothes, the shirt discarded in haste, followed by his trousers until he stood naked before her, his leanly muscled body glowing golden in the subdued light of the cabin.

Mutely, Wendy raised her arms to him and he came to her, joining her on the covers, his arousal plainly felt against her body as they lay skin to skin, legs and arms entwined until it was impossible to tell where one finished and the other began. Kisses and groans, sighs and moans echoed softly around the cabin as the bars of sunlight made their slow progression across the floor, the sounds of flesh on flesh muted by soft words of love and joy, of faith restored and life renewed between two destinies finally fulfilled.

Sated and sleepy, Wendy held Peter tightly, their bodies still joined, sweat sheening their skin.

"Tell me I'm not dreaming?"

"You're not dreaming," Peter's muffled voice against her breast made her laugh softly.

"Did I die?"

She felt him stiffen against her, his muscles in his back like iron under her finger tips. Unable to voice the words, Peter could only nod his head.

"I don't remember...I don't remember anything after the Emerald Guardian appeared."

"Good." Peter said forcefully, lifting his head and taking her mouth in a savage kiss, Wendy responding in kind until they parted, panting heavily and stared at each other in wonder.

"I never want to go through that again," Peter rasped, pulling her more tightly into his body, making her draw in a sharp breath.

"How did I..." Wendy started to ask only to have her mouth assaulted so sweetly again and she lost interest in the answer as Peter moved against her and within her, drawing out her pleasure until she arched against him in helpless pleading to end the torment and bring them both to completion.

Breathless, they lay against the sweat dampened covers and listened to their thundering hearts. Catching her breath, Wendy rolled onto her side and propped her head up on her hand, staring down at Peter who lay in boneless bliss beside her.

"You are King of Neverland now, aren't you?"

Lifting his lashes, Peter gazed up at her, his face unusually sombre.

"King of Never Neverland and Ruler of the three Realms."

"Such a long title. You have everything now, as it was foretold, but you're not happy." She stated softly, tracing the outline of his lips with her finger. She waited for him to answer but he only turned his head away, his Adam's apple moving as he swallowed hard. Leaning down she pressed a kiss against his cheek, lowering her head to lay it against his shoulder, snuggling into his side. Peter continued to stare off into the distance, listening to her breathing slow until he knew she had fallen asleep. Closing his eyes he listened to her simply breath, well aware that only a short time ago he'd thought her lost to him, her breath forever stilled, her life ended before it had even begun. He could still feel the awesome power that dwelled within him, the power of life or death, of hope or despair, the responsibility for that power almost scaring him senseless. That same power had brought her back to him, restored her back to life, but was it fair to expect her to stay with him? She was so much a part of him now, as she had been so long ago, he felt that if he sent her away it would be like severing his own limb or cutting out his heart. But if she stayed, would he be enough for her to give up her life beyond Neverland's borders? Would she not regret not seeing her family or friends, her life before fate and destiny changed it all? Did he have the right to have her remain with him, to hold her if she wanted to go?

Turning his head he stared at her beloved features, so soft and relaxed in sleep, so recently cold and lifeless beneath his hands. It overwhelmed him how much he loved her, the tumultuous feeling making his heart swell almost to bursting. Shifting slightly he eased her head to a more comfortable position on his shoulder before wrapping her more tightly in his arms as if his strength alone would be enough to protect her, his love enough to keep the regrets and fears at bay.

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TBC...


	19. Holding It All

11/11/05 

Title: To Have & To Hold

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Nineteen - Holding it all.

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A soft tap at the door roused Peter, the late afternoon light coloured with the rich glow of sunset flooding the cabin through the latticed windows. Easing his legs over the side of the bed, he snagged his breeches and pulled them on, padding quietly over to the door and opening it.

"Sorry to disturb you Peter, but there be a crowd of folk wanting to see you."

Aramis flicked a glance over the still form in the bed before returning to regard the youth standing before him. He couldn't put a finger on it, but something had changed. Around Peter's neck hung the gold thimble, glittering against the young mans skin in the half light of the cabin, the old Captain's eyes drawn upwards to find himself regarded with eyes that seemed to carry a world of grief and cares within their depths. Shocked, Aramis blinked and when he looked again Peter had veiled his eyes with his lashes and turned his head to the side.

"I'll be with you directly...give me a moment."

Keeping his voice as low as Peter's, Aramis leant forward.

"What is it lad?"

Looking up at his old mentor, Peter let a smile tilt his lips.

"Nothing my friend...nothing at all. I'll be with you shortly."

Taking his words as dismissal, Aramis bowed briefly and shut the door, a worried frown creasing his forehead.

Peter turned back to face the bed and padded over to it, pausing to stare down at the girl sleeping peacefully on her side. Kneeling down, Peter leant over her and pressed a kiss to a rounded shoulder, the flesh warm against his lips.

"Sleep Wendy...there's nothing to hurt you now...sleep."

Rising to his feet he approached the chest of drawers and found himself a fresh shirt, pulling it on slowly as he contemplated what he was about to do. Feeling something dig into his hip, he reached into the pocket of his breeches and pulled out the tarnished chain and its blackened burden. Twirling the ravaged acorn on its chain, he stared at the token for a moment before undoing the fastening and putting the pendant around his neck where it lay next to the brightly shining thimble. Turning back to the bed, he tucked his shirt into his waistband before bending down and pressing a kiss against Wendy's cheek.

"I'm sorry..." He murmured before backing away from the bed and reaching for the door handle. Striding along the corridor, he took the steps two at a time, bursting through the hatchway and onto the deck. Waiting for him were his three stalwarts, feet braced apart on the golden deck, their backs to the main mast. Looking up Peter saw that every spar was providing seating for a host of bright fairies, their wings fluttering slowly as they waited, their tinkling voices like faint wind chimes on the breeze. Overhead the sky was turning pink, the fluffy clouds like misshapen cotton balls in hues of apricot and yellow against the pink tinged blue sweep of the heavens. Breathing deeply, Peter filled his lungs with the sweet air, the faint smell of salt and seaweed tempered by the heady aroma of flowers and earth wafting from the jungle shoreline.

Neverland looked like a jewel, her green hills as bright as emeralds, the golden sunlight making it glow like a stain glass window, exotic flowers lending colour to the forest canopy while birds wheeled and dived among the branches, adding their tuneful songs and bright plumage to the scene.

Slowly Peter made his way over the deck and approached the three men waiting for him.

As he stopped before them, all three performed a bow before straightening. Peter inclined his head in acknowledgement then stood before them.

"Well gentlemen...it would seem that I am to be King of Neverland after all."

Stubbs grinned toothily and stepped forward to thump Peter on the shoulder. "As if there was any doubt that would be the outcome!"

Aramis eyed Peter shrewdly. "It was foretold Peter..."

"Yes Aramis, it was foretold...Hook is dead, as far as I know, my blade despatched him. The oracle is here," Peter tapped his chest. "I can feel it inside me. I have the power of life over death, if I so choose, there are none that can stand against me."

Harry glanced briefly at his companions before stepping forward. "Then there is much to celebrate. Why so serious...it's not...I mean...Wendy?"

"I left her sleeping...and she'll continue to sleep until I awaken her." Peter informed them, his head turning to stare at the ocean beyond the rail, thereby missing the glances exchanged between his comrades. Aramis cleared his throat.

"What do you want to do first, Your Majesty?"

"Dispense with the absurd title for starters. I always was Peter, and am still Peter...to my friends."

"As you wish...if it pleases you...er...Peter, there is a gathering of the Neverland folk inland, to welcome you back, so to speak, and pay tribute."

"That is not necessary..." Peter started but Stubbs cut him off.

"It is necessary Peter...you are King now. The creatures and subjects of Neverland want to pay homage, it is your right and their honor to do so."

Peter stared at his three friends with an exasperated look before shrugging his shoulders and grinning. "I don't imagine I can stop it, so why not." He waved his arms expansively. "Carry on Mister Stubbs!"

Stepping away from the mast, Stubbs tilted his head and put a hand around his mouth, shouting up to the fairies gathered in the rigging.

"Hoist away me hearties!"

As one the fairy host showered the ship in gold dust, the Nymph lifting easily away from the surface of the sea, water cascading off her hull as she gracefully flew as light as a feather into the sky, the setting sun glinting off her gilded sides. As they cleared the bay, Peter looked back and saw dark heads and bodies cleaving the water behind them, a large body of merfolk following the path of the Nymph as she rounded the rocky headland before turning her prow to head inland. As they crossed the shoreline and sailed above the trees, flocks of birds rose up from the trees, flapping and gliding up and around the masts, warbling and crying as they swooped under and over the ship. Further inland they encountered a swarm of brightly coloured butterflies that fluttered aboard and settled on the decking, alighting on anything and everything like winged jewels. Peter found himself with two settling on his shoulders, their delicate wings fanning his cheeks before they lifted off again and fluttered away. As the ship flew in at a stately pace, Peter walked to the rail and leant over the side, staring down at his domain passing below. Despite having spent most of his life flying over the dips and hollows of his island, it always appeared fresh and new, the greens of every hue dazzling the eye. Behind the ship the setting sun was rapidly sinking towards the horizon, the violet sea turned to purple below a pink streaked sky, the first star barely visible behind the clouds scudding past.

"A bonny sight lad." Aramis said, resting his hand on Peter's shoulder before leaning his elbows on the rail.

"It is indeed...one I never grow tired of."

"But you think she will?"

Peter shot his former mentor a look. "How is it you are able to read my mind?"

"It's no trick Peter...you wear your feelings on your face, always have. Anyone who cares to look can fathom the thoughts that trouble you now. What I don't understand is why they trouble you? Wendy has proved herself constant, so why do you still doubt her?"

"I don't know...I just feel she's been forced into this."

"Then you're a fool boy...as much as this was your destiny, you are hers...why fight what was always inevitable?"

Unable to answer, Peter just shook his head and stared ahead.

Sighing, Aramis turned his back on the rail and crossed his arms.

"You've no right to take that choice away from her, you know that?"

"I know."

"So go wake her...give her a chance to make that choice."

Peering up into the lined face beside him, Peter nodded and turned away from the rail. Making his way back to the cabin he could feel the ship start to tilt as it descended towards the gathering below, opening the door to his cabin, he eased inside, shutting the door behind him.

Wendy lay as he'd left her, her hand curled loosely on the pillow beside her head, her face unlined in sleep. Lowering himself to the covers, he stretched out beside her and propped himself on his hand while he reached with the other to stroke her cheek.

"Wendy...it's time to wake up."

Slowly, her head turning towards him, Wendy opened her eyes and blinked up at him, a smile curving her lips.

"Are we home yet?"

Peter felt a pang shoot through his chest and he swallowed hard, wincing inwardly. "Where is home, Wendy? Here? Or back with your family, your friends...London?"

Wendy frowned a little at the question, her gaze troubled as she fought to throw off the muddle of sleep still clinging to her mind.

"It's with you Peter."

"Not with your family?"

"I don't understand...why are you asking me this?"

Not meeting her eyes, Peter picked up a curl of hair and wound it around his finger. "I want to give you a choice...all this, everything we've gone through has been under someone else command. The prophecy, the Oracle, the Keeper, the Guardian...me...you. I can't escape what fate has in store for me...I am part of it already. But you have a choice...to stay...or walk away. You could return and rejoin your family, find a husband, start your own family..." He found himself choking on his own words, a knot forming in his throat that refused to budge.

"Don't you want me any more?" Wendy's broken whisper cut through his own misery like a lightning strike. He stared down into her face, seeing the tears gathering in her eyes, her lips trembling.

"Not want you? I can't imagine my life without you now...I can't breath without knowing you're beside me...I want you so badly I can taste it!"

"I feel the same way Peter...I have for a very long time."

"But your family..." He started but found himself silenced again by Wendy's finger against his lips.

"You are all I want Peter, all I need...and I'd die a thousand times if that's what you need for me to prove it to you."

"No..." Burying his face against her breast, Peter gathered her to him, wrapping his arms around her and crushing her against him. For her part Wendy welcomed the feel of his arms, her own holding his head against her heart as he shook with the force of his relief against her. They stayed that way for several long moments until Wendy relaxed her hold and pushed him away, his face held in her hands.

"I belong here...where you are Peter, for as long as you want me."

"Then be prepared to stay forever, Wendy...because I will always want you."

Stroking his face, Wendy gazed up at him with love in her eyes.

"Forever is a very long time..."

Drawing his head down, she kissed him. Not a kiss of uncontrolled passion, but a kiss of commitment and trust. When they drew apart, Peter captured one of her hands and pressed his lips to the palm in humble salute. A slight movement of the ship alerted Peter to the fact that they had stopped flying and had arrived at their destination.

Pulling away, he slipped off the bed and peered out of the porthole.

"I think it's time you got dressed...there's quite a crowd waiting to greet their King and Queen."

For a moment Wendy didn't react, her mind still on the emotions just expressed, then his words sunk in. "What?"

Scrabbling the sheet around her middle, Wendy scooted to the edge of the bed and shuffled across the floor to stand beside Peter and stare out of the window. The ship appeared to be sitting on its hull in the middle of a large clearing, their restricted view only showing them a waving field of shadowy grass backed by a wall of upright trees with dark shadows beyond.

"Where are we?" Wendy asked, startled to see people starting to emerge from the trees, almost all carrying some form of light either a torch or lantern. Above their heads swarmed a myriad lights as fairy folk flew over them, darting through the branches and about the bobbing lights, all headed towards the sides of the ship.

"They are our subjects sweetness...come to pay homage to their King."

Wendy turned her head and stared in shock at Peter, the sheet clutched tightly in her suddenly nerveless fingers. "But I don't have anything to wear!"

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The sun finally gave up its hold on the day and slipped out of sight, the stars quickly replacing its golden rays with the cool brightness of diamonds, twinkling down on the island sitting surrounded by a sapphire ocean. Majestically, the moon started its ascent, rising into the sky and shining a cold white light over the dips and hollows of Neverland, bathing everything in black and white.

Only in a wide clearing was the moon banished, the leaping flames of a hundred torches reflecting off the gilded planking of the ship sitting in the center. Fires had also been lit and figures leapt around them, whooping and yelling as they danced, the smell of food wafting up to the ship and making the mouths of the three men leaning on the rail water.

The fairies had left the rigging for the time being until they were needed to lift the ship again, their fairy dust still coating all the surfaces so that the ship glittered and twinkled in the light of the fires.

A sound drew their attention away from the cavorting Indian's below to watch as the door leading to the cabins opened and Peter led Wendy on to the main deck.

Peter was dressed in a coat made of white velvet trimmed heavily with gold embroidery, the wide cuffs exposing a quantity of lace at his wrist, the front was open over a white shirt, itself still unlaced and exposing a quantity of bare chest, deeply tanned from the sun. The black trousers, into which he'd loosely tucked the shirt, hugged his thighs and legs tightly, tucked themselves into black boots that gleamed with polish.

"All he needs is a rakish hat and he'd pass for a buccaneer." Stubbs hissed in an aside to Harry, receiving an elbow in reply.

Wendy glided at his side, her hand held in Peter's, her other hand holding up her shirts as she approached across the deck.

Like Peter she was dressed in white, her gown trailing behind, the hem edged with a deep tracery of gold stitching, the skirt dropping from below her bust to sweep down her body in graceful folds before brushing her feet encased in dainty gold slippers. Her hair was simply dressed and left to hang down her back, the front tied away from her face and knotted with a profusion of gold ribbons on her crown. The bodice hugged her youthful curves to perfection, the edge decorated with more embroidery, the gauze puffed sleeves almost invisible at the top of her arms. They reached the three men waiting at the rail and halted, Peter not letting go of Wendy's hand.

Aramis went down on one knee and lifted Wendy's free hand, pressing his lips to its back. "You look beautiful my dear."

Blushing, Wendy thanked him, Stubbs and Harry copying Aramis and adding their compliments while saluting her fingers with their lips. Peter watched it all with a smug smile on his lips, happy to let his friends adore his Wendy, secure in her affections and untroubled by jealousy. He only needed to meet her eyes to know that there was no other to usurp him in her heart.

With the greetings over, Peter led Wendy to the rail, lifting them both until they stood poised, looking down the side of the ship to the ground quite some distance away, the fires and torches gleaming off the gold side and reflecting shards of light over the throng gathered below.

"Ready?" Peter asked, tightening his grip on her fingers.

"Always.." Wendy answered, her lips parting in a smile.

Without appearing to use any effort, Peter lifted off from the side of the ship and floated for a moment in front of Wendy, his other hand holding out to grasp hers before pulling her off the rail to float with him in mid air. With her secure, he pulled her in close as if they were dancing and started to slowly twirl away from the ship and above the heads of the people gathered below. As if hearing music inaudible to anyone else, Peter and Wendy dipped and swayed their way down to the ground, alighting as easily as thistledown within the circle of fires created for that purpose. Once on the ground a great cheer arose from those gathered and Peter found himself grinning widely as the various tribes of Indians that inhabited the Island circled them, the women setting up a chant while the men clapped their hands and beat on drums, filling the air with sound. Pushing his way to the front, Tomas and his tribe of Lost Boys appeared, Berry by his side, their faces painted and sporting toothy grins as they waved and capered alongside the Indians. Above all their heads the fairies danced as well, circling above the fires, weaving through and around the spirals of smoke and embers that floated ever skyward.

After several minutes of this cacophony, the sound started to die away until silence fell over the gathering, only the snap and crackle of the fires disturbing the night air. The Chief's of the tribes stepped forward, each clothed in their full regalia, accompanied by their wives. In turn, each dropped to one knee and held out a tribute, laying them at Peter and Wendy's feet. As each rose Peter spoke a few words in their language, the wives doing the same for Wendy, who blushed and thanked the woman as she accepted their gifts. After the Indians came Tomas and Berry, offering gifts made by the Lost Boys, then came the fairies who had appointed several of their number to present their gifts. To each Peter spoke to them in their language, passing each glittering present to Wendy to marvel over before placing them beside those already given.

Stubbs, Aramis and Harry approached and held out three items, one a golden chalice, another a golden plate and the third a golden casket. Aramis held out the chalice and Peter took it, turning to face Wendy.

"It's fairy nectar," Peter explained in a whisper, taking a sip and passing it to Wendy. "Very potent..." He cautioned before Wendy put her lips to the gold cup and took a sip.

"It tastes wonderful." Wendy whispered back. Having been primed aboard the ship as to this ritual, Wendy handed the goblet back to Aramis with a shy smile.

"This is a loving cup," Peter continued in a normal voice, "...when two hearts drink from it, then they become one. By accepting this cup from my hands, you accept me for your mate, and I accept you as my wife, my partner, my love for life..."

"I willingly do so." Wendy responded huskily.

Stubbs approached and held out the golden plate, two small fruits sitting waiting to be consumed. Peter took one while Wendy took the other.

"With this Neverberry, I promise to share all I have. Know that you will never go short of food or shelter for as long as I am alive." Reaching out, Peter popped the sweet fruit into Wendy's mouth. Quickly swallowing the berry, Wendy picked up the other and fed Peter, smiling as he curled his tongue around the fruit before popping it in his mouth.

"And know this, Peter Pan, that you will never go without my love for as long as I am alive." Leaning forward, Wendy placed a small kiss against his mouth, darting back before he could prolong it.

Finally Harry held out the casket and Peter opened it. Inside he lifted out a length of glittering chain with a fresh green acorn dangling from it. Wendy lowered her head for him to lift it over and around her neck, the acorn settling just above the edge of her bodice. Delving back into the casket Peter produced a ring, a simple band of gold that he slipped on Wendy's hand where it gleamed in the light of the torches.

Wendy also reached into the box and found the rings partner, several sizes bigger than hers but just as plain. Slipping it on Peter's finger she held his hand up to her lips and kissed it, Peter's fingers closing over hers when she lifted her head.

"To have and to hold, from this day forward, forever and always, my love and my life." said Peter, his eyes never leaving hers as he raised her hand and kissed it.

"To have and to hold...forever." Wendy repeated, not resisting the tug of his fingers as he drew her close and covered her mouth with his, Wendy sinking against him and giving up her all as she wound her arms about Peter's neck and kissed him back. As the crowd gave vent to their satisfaction and jubilation, a flock of fairies approached the couple and performed an intricate manoeuver above their heads, two crowns fashioned of gilded leaves appearing in the air and slowly descending to the two heads so close together, the coronets settling on each despite their owners being quite oblivious to the honor. The crowd around them whooped and hollered even louder, the flames of the fires and torches leaping and flaring as bodies capered and danced in celebration. Overhead the fairies joined in by fluttering in the night sky and spiraling upwards then floating down again to weave their patterns in the air.

Still entwined, Peter and Wendy started to slowly ascend, spiraling up with the cloud of fairies fluttering around them, the people on the ground cheering and clapping as the couple finally ended their kiss, staring down at the crowd below before dancing in a wide circle, their entourage of fairies following them. When they had completed a circuit above the heads of the people below, Peter brought them back to the circle where Aramis, Stubbs and Harry waited, grinning up at the young people with unabashed pleasure.

As they touched down, Harry stepped forward and caught Peter's eye.

"Do I get to kiss the bride Peter?" Not waiting for an answer, Harry swept Wendy into his arms and planted a smacking kiss on her lips, Wendy laughing as she found herself passed over to Stubbs who hugged her tightly then kissed both cheeks before planting a kiss on her lips. Still laughing she found herself in Aramis' arms, staring up into the still handsome face, his eyes twinkling down at her.

"There was never a more bonny lass to walk through the doors of my bookshop. He's a lucky lad." Dipping his head, he brushed his lips against Wendy's cheek then set her on her feet.

"Thank you...thank you all for everything you've done for us," Wendy breathed, Peter's arm coming around her waist to draw her close.

"It was a pleasure to serve you both," Aramis assured her, bowing to Peter before taking his leave. Stubbs stepped forward and held out his hand to Peter.

"I suppose you'll not be wanting the Nymph now...but if you ever have need of a first mate..."

"I'll always have need of you, Mister Stubbs...and the Nymph will still need a fine Captain. Do you know anyone who might be interested?"

"Captain?" Stubbs beamed at Peter, pumping his hand up and down enthusiastically. "I'd be right glad to take up the position."

"I was sure you would." Peter grinned, extracting his hand from Stubbs punishing grip and shaking it to restore its circulation.

Harry slapped Stubbs on the back in congratulations and the two friends walked away into the throng of people dancing about the fires.

Finding themselves alone for a brief moment, Peter turned to face Wendy, who clasped her hands about his waist and tilted her head up to look at him.

"Well, Queen Wendy...are you happy?"

"Very much so King Peter...this has all been a wonderful dream, one I hope I never wake up from."

"And you never shall. Do you want to stay..?" He canted his head to the side to indicate the rowdy crowd enjoying themselves all around them.

"Is there somewhere we need to be?"

"I was thinking that we could go down to the Mermaid Lagoon for a brief visit then find ourselves a quiet corner and maybe..." He waggled his eyebrows, leering unashamedly.

Wendy giggled and buried her face against his coat. "Peter!"

"I'll take that to mean yes."

Lifting her head she gazed adoringly at him and smiled. "Yes."

Suddenly impatient, Peter grasped her hand and turned to find Aramis, dragging Wendy along behind him in his search for the Captain. When they finally found the trio partaking of some heady Indian beer, Peter succinctly informed them what the new King and Queen were going to do, eliciting a knowing look from their three friends.

"Enjoy your honeymoon, we'll send out a search party in a weeks time!"

With the good wishes and the hearty laughter of their friends ringing in their ears, Peter hustled Wendy to the outskirts of the happy throng, Wendy holding on to her leaf crown with one hand as Peter hauled her along. Once clear of the people, Peter gathered her close and lifted them both into the air, flying swiftly over the moonlit trees towards the coast of Neverland and Mermaid Lagoon.

The sea was calm, barely a ripple disturbing its surface as they touched down on the flat rocks bordering the bay. While Peter crouched down to call the Merfolk, Wendy shook out her skirts and adjusted her crown, waiting nervously for the appearance of the Mermaids.

"They're here." Peter announced, getting to his feet and taking Wendy's hand. Together they watched as a multitude of dark heads broke the surface of the sea, dark eyes piercing the night before diving below the surface and swimming powerfully for the rocks. Remembering the powerful effect of the Mermaids gaze, Wendy kept her eyes lowered, only peeping at the creatures as they clustered around the flat rock, staring with knowing eyes up at Peter. Before anyone could speak the sea erupted further out and a large, bristling form leapt out of the water like a whale breaching, diving back under the sea, a ripple showing it swimming towards them at speed. Wendy drew back but Peter's firm hand kept her by his side.

"It's the Emerald Guardian." Peter whispered, reassuring her.

The Mermaids parted to allow the Guardian to approach, water from the Merman's bow wave almost swamping the rock on which Peter and Wendy stood. Rearing up on his tale, the Guardian stood out of the sea, water streaming off his body and raised spines, leaving him gleaming blackly like obsidian against the moonlit surface.

"We meet again, King of the Three Realms, and welcome his Queen."

"You knew, didn't you?" Peter asked, "You knew I had the power to restore her to me, but you didn't tell me."

The giant Merman shrugged, his spines rattling. "You weren't in the mood to listen, so I left you to find out for yourself. There's isn't much now that you can't do...if you've a mind to it."

"Aren't you afraid I'll use that power for bad as well as good?"

"No. The day you use your power for something other than the good of Neverland and its people, it will be taken from you and you will lose everything you hold dear. I would think that sufficient incentive to keep a reign on the possibility of corruption."

"A strong incentive indeed," Peter agreed, not abashed one whit.

"I have no doubts you will make an excellent ruler, and with your mate by your side, will create a golden future for your heirs to inherit."

At his side, Wendy blushed furiously and looked down at her feet, Peter's fingers squeezing hers reassuringly.

"I think I'll get use to being a King before I worry about being a Father." Peter joked, glancing sideways at Wendy and missing the look that passed over the Guardians face.

A gust of laughter drew his eyes back to the Guardian, the Merfolk also smiling as if sharing a common joke.

"What's so funny?" Peter smiled. The Guardian grinned at them and bowed towards them.

"Fate has taken a hand in that as well...as you will find out in due course. I wish you well, Peter Pan, we Merfolk are always at your service."

"Thank you Guardian...I would ask you a question before we leave you."

"Ask what you will, but I think I know what you are going to say...Yes you killed Hook, but no he is not dead. His part in this, as a tool for the Keeper, was not his true fate. He is gone from Neverland and will not bother you or yours again, but he is not dead."

"Where is he?"

"I decided, after your visit to my grotto, that I needed to return to the world outside. There is a new guardian within the caves, to take care of the treasures hidden in their depths, as I once did, so he will do."

"Hook!" Peter exclaimed.

"Was it...won't he...is he being...punished, being sent there?" Wendy asked.

"His crimes were many and heinous, but I think he'll find his new...position, within the realm of Neverland, to be less onerous than one might think. He will live out his days among the caves and passages of the mountain and think on his former life. In time, who knows, he might even come to think well of his new home."

Peter felt a shudder go through Wendy and he felt it time to end their visit with the Merfolk. The Guardian sensed it and bowed again before diving into the sea, the Mermaids following in a froth of glittering ripples, the sea quickly returning to its smooth calm.

Gathering Wendy's shivering form against his side, Peter flew them away from the shore and back over the jungle, the night air silky against his face. Wendy remained silent at his side, her face unreadable in the shifting light of the moon. He took them towards the Northern end of the island, as far from the looming Volcano as possible. There he set them down softly within a clearing of flowering trees, their scent perfuming the air. In the center of the clearing was a raised dais covered over with a loosely woven canopy interlaced with flowers that added their perfume to the night. The platform was thickly covered in luxurious furs to form a bed and a filmy curtain lined the inside of the canopy and formed a curtain tied back at the front. Peter led Wendy towards it and she followed, still not speaking until they stood at the foot of the two steps leading up and there she stopped.

"I almost wish the Guardian had left him dead." Wendy whispered, her head down bent as she fiddled with her dress.

"Wendy...wherever Hook is, he's not here now...and we are. Don't you like your wedding bed?"

Blinking, Wendy stared up at him then at the bower, as if seeing it for the first time. "Oh..." then she looked again. "Oh my."

"It's a gift from the fairies and folk of the forest. No-one knows where it is except them, so we'll be entirely private and alone, just the two of us."

"Oh Peter..." Wendy breathed, suddenly shy. "It's very...beautiful, and very big."

"Forget them Wendy...forget them all." Peter whispered against her ear, wrapping his arms around her from behind and hugging her close to his chest. "Tonight is just for us...this is just for us."

Turning her slowly around he gazed down into her face, seeing the stars reflected in her eyes. Sliding his hands down her arms he laced his fingers with hers. "Come..."

Leading her to the platform, he climbed on top of the furs, drawing Wendy behind him until they were both laying face to face, moonlight filtering through the branches of the flowering vines, their sweet perfume scenting the night air. Sitting up, Peter shed his velvet coat and tossed it down beside the bed, kicking off his boots before pulling his shirt off over his head. Wendy watched him with luminous eyes, her hand reaching out to stroke over his torso as he lay down again beside her.

Reaching up he plucked the leaf crown from her head and tossed it to join his which had been pulled off with his shirt.

"Now...Queen of my heart...where were we.."

Leaning down he covered her mouth with his warm lips, teasing them until she opened to him, his tongue darting out to meet hers in unbearable sweetness. When he lifted his head minutes later, Wendy lay gazing mistily up at him, a sheen of tears forming in her eyes, taking him aback.

"What's the matter...why are you crying?"

"Oh Peter...I just realised what the Guardian meant...oh no, I know why he laughed!"

Peter gave her a puzzled look, Wendy meeting his look with one that was a mixture of fear and apprehension.

Swallowing hard, Wendy closed her eyes and passed a hand over her face before looking at him again.

"What is it?" Peter demanded, fear spiking at the unknown.

"I think...I think...no, it's can't be, it's too soon!"

"WHAT!" Peter shouted, Wendy cringing back as he roared at her.

"I think...I'm pregnant." She whispered back.

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TBC...


	20. Having It All

21/11/05 

Title: To Have & To Hold

Author: Squeezynz

Chapter: Twenty - Having it All.

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Author's Note: A Huge thank you to all those that took the time to review and send feedback during the course of this story. You are all treasures and I enjoyed having you along for the ride. I'm sure this won't be my last PP adventure, but it's certainly been one of my longest.

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Eight Months Later

Wendy stood on the headland and watched the ship tack its way into the cove, the people waiting on the shore looking like dolls as they waved to the incoming craft. Children were leaping off the wharf, swarming around the small craft preparing to go out and meet the Siren.

Absently she stroked her hand over her distended belly, the baby inside kicking vigorously as if feeling her fingers running over her body.

"Shhhh...you are far too eager." She soothed, both hands running in circles over her tightly stretched skin, the child inside slowing its movements as Wendy slowed her stroking. "There, so much better than trying to kick your way out."

The breeze making her hair stream out behind her, brought with it the scent of the sea and the cries of the people below, the Siren now dropping her two huge anchors as the small craft from the shore approached, her shrouds being rapidly furled against the long spars as her crew scrabbled amongst the rat lines and rigging.

The sun suddenly appeared from behinds a long cloud and a spear of light illuminated the ship briefly before spreading to the shore and finally to the bluff where she stood. Holding up her hand to shield her eyes she squinted down at the sea but quite failed to see what she was looking for.

"You're not supposed to be tramping about in your condition!"

His voice behind her startled her and she spun around, teetering until strong arms encased her and steadied her.

"You shouldn't frighten me like that you wretch!"

Wendy's half hearted protest was cut off by a pair of eager lips that rapidly dispelled any lingering fright or anger. Despite her heavy body her husband held her close and didn't let her go until they were both breathless and, in Wendy's case, quite pink.

"Now that's a welcome worth waiting for." Peter grinned, nuzzling her neck, his hand held firmly pressed to her rounded belly, a tiny foot kicking out to greet his touch. Crouching down, he head now level with her bulge, Peter put his cheek against it, his hand still splayed across the expanse. He was rewarded with another movement, this time right by his face. Wendy looked down lovingly at him, her fingers threading through the thick silky curls pressed against her waist.

"I'd just got him to settle down." She sighed, Peter lifting his head away and peering up at her. "He's been kicking the life out of me this last hour."

"He?"

"Oh you know...he, she, it...the baby."

Turning back to face her stomach, Peter tapped it gently. "Hey you, don't be so unkind to your poor mother. Now settle down and let her say hello to me properly."

Wendy laughed at his mock stern expression as Peter rose to his feet and wrapped her in his arms from behind.

"Did you miss me?"

"Of course not." Wendy replied, smiling to take the sting out of her words. "I've been far too busy with everything to know you'd even gone."

"Liar." Peter whispered against her ear, his cheek against her hair. "I missed you too. But that's the last long run for awhile, as I promised."

"Did it go well?" Enjoying the feel of his arms about her, she ignored her sore feet and swollen ankles and the faint twinges coming from her abdomen.

"As expected. There's plenty to trade, and supplies enough for several months."

"Good."

Another twinge made her press her hand to her stomach, wincing at the slight pain. Another followed in quick succession and she couldn't repress a gasp.

"Wendy? What is it?" Peter turned her around and saw her wince, his own heart rate soaring as a spasm contorted her face in pain.

"Oh Peter!"

Not waiting for an answer, he lifted her up in his arms and instantly flew into the air, Wendy holding onto her swollen belly with one hand while her other arm encircled his neck.

"Where's Harry today?" He asked her as they slowly flew down from the headland, Peter taking the overland route rather than over the sea.

"I'm not sure...Peter it's too soon...the baby's not due for weeks!" Wendy gasped.

Hearing the fear spiking her voice, Peter pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Don't worry...it's probably just what baby's do...a practice run...or...or something."

"Practice run?" Wendy queried, concentrating on his words to avoid thinking about the regular pains cramping her stomach.

"Yes...testing the waters to see if we're ready."

"Everything is ready...ooooh ow." Wendy panted as another spasm gripped her flesh.

They were approaching the village at the base of the bluff, the small painter's, loaded with boxes and barrels, plying back and forth between the shore and the ship. Peter set them down near a group of sailors who instantly turned to face him.

"Does anyone know where Harry is?" He asked them, the men taking in the situation at a glance, from Peter's strained expression to Wendy's white face.

"He was going to the village Majesty, they have a sick child."

Flying slowly upwards Peter set a course for the Indian encampment, Wendy curled protectively into his body, her lips pulled back from her teeth in a grimace of pain.

"Hurry Peter...please hurry!"

Speeding as fast as he dared he flew above the trees to where thin threads of smoke rose into the blue sky, the tips of a forest of tepee's appearing in a clearing by a familiar looking river.

"We're here Wendy, hold on, Harry won't be far."

Landing among the tents, Peter and Wendy were instantly surrounded by a crowd of natives, their warm welcome overshadowed when Peter ordered someone to find the Doctor and bring him quickly. The wife of the chief indicated for Peter to carry Wendy into one of the tents, laying her down on a thick mat of skins, Wendy's hand reaching for his as she stared up at him with fearful eyes.

"It's too soon...it's too soon..."

"Shhhhhh...Harry will know what to do."

They heard a flurry of voices then the flap of the tepee was thrust aside and Harry ducked under the low doorway.

Kneeling down beside Wendy he placed his hand on her swollen stomach and held it there. Under his fingers he felt the muscles contract, Wendy gripping Peter's hand until her knuckles turned white as the pain spiked suddenly, leaving her breathless. Harry turned to the Chief's wife and asked for a bowl of water and a towel, before turning back and meeting the prospective parents worried stares.

"Your baby is eager to be born...congratulations."

"But it's too soon." Wendy wailed, another pain gripping her with iron bands. Harry took her other hand and she squeezed them both unmercifully until the spasm passed. Peter was looking a little white around the lips and Harry indicated for him to give his hand a shake to get the circulation going before Wendy needed it again.

"Is she right Harry? Is it too soon?"

"Babies have a habit of choosing their own time to arrive Peter. Wendy is a strong and very healthy, there's nothing to indicate a problem. But I would prefer she was aboard the Nymph when she gives birth."

"I want to go home Peter...please..."

"Is it safe to carry her in this condition?" Peter asked worriedly.

"We have a little time yet. Here's the water, let me make an quick examination then we'll have a better idea what's going on. This will feel uncomfortable, I'm afraid."

While Peter supported Wendy, Harry folded her dress back above her knees and prepared to give her an internal examination. After a quick exam he washed again and sat back on his heels, pulling her dress back down.

"We need to get you to the Nymph right away." Harry told them, helping Wendy to get to her feet, both men supporting her as they walked out of the tent into the bright sun. A crowd had gathered outside and Wendy hid her face in Peter's shoulder when he picked her up in his arms again.

"Take her to the Nymph Peter...I have to gather some supplies. The ships berthed at the wharf, as usual. I'll meet you there soon."

"What about...?" Peter started to say, slightly panicked.

Harry patted him on the arm. "She'll be fine Peter...this isn't the first baby to be born in the world."

Turning away, the Doctor hurried off, the Chief's wife at his side, both of them talking rapidly. Peter wasted no time and flew into the air, traveling the short distant to Crocodile Creek in less time that it took to say its name. There he saw the golden ship that had become his and Wendy's home, moored to the wharf with no sign of anyone aboard. Alighting on the main deck, Peter hurried towards the stern, ducking through the hatchway and along the passage to their cabin.

Kicking open the door he carefully laid Wendy on the bed, her fingers unable to let go of his shirt until he gently pried them away.

"Don't leave me...please don't leave me...I'm so afraid."

"I'm right here sweetness, I'm not going anywhere... Harry will be here soon..."

Racked by another pain, Wendy drew her bottom lip between her teeth and panted, drawing her legs up as Peter sat beside her, their hand's joined once more. Wendy moaned when her muscles finally relaxed, her head falling back on the pillows, her eyes finding Peter's.

"Oh Peter...it hurts...so badly...where's Harry?"

"Shhhh sweetness, he'll be here soon...try not to worry." Bending down he pressed a kiss to her brow, his own eyes shadowed with panic as Wendy gripped his hand again, her back arching as another contraction squeezed her relentlessly.

Not long after Peter heard hurrying footsteps on the deck and Harry appeared soon after carrying his medical bag and another satchel. Behind the Doctor stood the Chief's wife, Mirima, who bustled around the cabin.

Harry was taking Wendy's pulse, one hand holding a silver pocket watch while the other held her wrist. Satisfied, he then withdrew a long wooden stethoscope and held it to Wendy's belly, listening to the baby's heartbeat. The prospective parents watched him with curiosity and some caution, Wendy willing away the pain to concentrate on Harry's prognosis. Mirima held out a basin and Harry washed his hands, drying them on a snowy piece of cloth.

"We need to get you out of that dress Wendy. The baby is coming hard and fast and I expect your water's to break any time now. Don't fight the pains, they're getting your body ready to give birth. Breath deeply and try to relax...Mirima?"

Between the three of them, they got Wendy out of her dress and into a light shift. Mirima has folded a square of cloth and placed it between Wendy's legs, only just in time as liquid gushed from her body, accompanied by another intense contraction that left Wendy sweating and crying out.

"It hurts...oh it hurts.." Wendy moaned, turning her face into Peter's arm, her other hand gripping the wooden bedstead above her head.

"Is there nothing that will help?" Peter asked, accepting the cloth handed to him my Mirima to wipe Wendy's face.

"There is something we use to ease the ordeal...it does not take away all the pain, but does help." Mirima told him, raising an eyebrow at Harry who only hesitated a second before nodding. Mirima quickly withdrew a pouch from around her neck and went to the kettle set up on a spirit burner, steam issuing from its spout. Taking a cup she sprinkled some herbs into it and poured on the hot water. Swirling it in her brown hands she carried it back to the bed and held it out to Peter, who sniffed it before holding it to Wendy's lips.

"Here love...drink this."

Draining the cup, Wendy fell back against the pillows, her face contorted with the pain gripping her body. Mirima changed the cloth between her legs, the amniotic fluid now reduced to a trickle. Harry indicated for Peter to position himself behind Wendy to act as her bolster, raising her up against his chest, his legs either side of her body, their hands entwined. Harry positioned himself at the end of the bed, Mirima bustling about, throwing open the windows of the cabin, letting in the smell of the sea and flowers, the sounds of birds and insects. Harry was muttering encouragement to Wendy, Peter whispering endearments into her ears as she strained, teeth gritted, to bring their baby into the world, her body taut as muscles clenched and flesh contracted, all the time pushing to expel the child within.

Peter wondered if he'd ever feel his fingers again as Wendy pushed back against him, her mouth open on a scream as a violent contraction squeezed her belly, Harry between her legs yelling at her to bear down.

"One more push Wendy...breath girl, breath...that's it...the head is crowning...relax now, relax...prepare yourself for one more...that's it...now PUSH!"

With a mighty effort despite her exhaustion and pain Wendy bore down, pushing with everything she had, her reward slipping suddenly into the world from the warmth of her body into Harry waiting hands, Mirima handing him the cloths to clean the baby's face and mouth of mucous. Wendy lay collapsed against Peter, her eyes closed as she panted, Peter staring at the Doctor and Mirima working on the infant at the end of the bed. Harry was tying off the cord and held a sharp knife, glancing up at Peter and getting his permission before cutting the umbilical and separating the baby from its mother. Mirima swept the child up in a soft cloth just as a thin wail announced its arrival in the world. Wendy instantly opening her eyes and crying out, struggling to lift her head to see her child.

"M-m-my baby?"

Leaving Harry to deal with the afterbirth, Mirima leant over the bed and handed the tiny wrapped bundle to its awestruck parents, Peter unaware of the tracks of moisture running down his face, Wendy taking the child and holding it to her chest, parting the folds of material to peer in wonder at their creation.

Harry looked up and grinned at the young people so engrossed in staring at their new child, Peter reaching out a finger to touch the petal soft skin of the babies head, the silky strands of golden hair like fairy down on its scalp.

"Oh Peter...he's beautiful...so beautiful.." Wendy whispered, tears overflowing her eyes, her lips pulled into a smile of tenderness and wonderment.

"He?" Peter looked up at Harry, as if the sex of the child had been unimportant until that moment. "It's a boy?"

"Yes Peter...you have a son."

For a second Peter stared stupidly at the Doctor, then at Mirima, before a smile broke over his face like the sun rising, his eyes alight with love and awe at having had a part in so miraculous an undertaking as producing a son.

"Wendy we have a son."

"I know...isn't he just perfect?"

She had discovered a tiny starfish hand among the folds and was ardently kissing each fragile finger, the baby waving its arm about before Peter stroked its palm with a tip of his finger, the baby wrapping his own around his fathers with a sure grip.

"I just need to press on your abdomen to expel the afterbirth Wendy...there shouldn't be any discomfort...just relax." Harry instructed her, Wendy oblivious to anything but her baby as the Doctor completed the last ritual of birth, handing the bloody remains of the cord and placenta to Mirima to take care of. "You'll continue to pass fluid for the next few days, a bit like your monthly courses, so you'll need to wear a pad until they subside." Harry continued to tell the new mother, not worried when neither Wendy nor Peter acknowledge that he existed, they were too busy cooing and playing with their son to worry about the practicalities of giving birth. Shrugging, Harry turned to Mirima and the two exchanged a silent conversation. Happy that Mirima would take care of the new mother, Harry cleaned himself up and bundled the soiled linen into a pile to take deck side.

"Congratulations Peter, Wendy...have you thought of a name for the new prince of Neverland?"

"Christopher." Wendy announced without hesitation, glancing up at Peter who bent his head and kissed her.

Harry nodded his approval and turned to leave, pausing before leaving the cabin. "You'll need to rest Wendy, and before long he'll want to feed."

"Thank you Harry...I'm so glad you were here with us." Wendy's heartfelt gratitude brought a lump to the Doctors throat.

"I was glad I was able to help. Light meals for now, young lady, and sleep when you feel the need. Give your body a chance to heal."

Wendy only nodded, her attention already returned to the bundle starting to squawl in her arms. Mirima took the child while Peter extricated himself from behind, Wendy glad to lay back against the soft pillows and close her eyes while Peter took the baby from Mirima and rocked it in his arms. Mirima continued to bustled quietly around the cabin, replacing the soiled bed linen and checking the pad of cloth between Wendy's legs, tutting to herself as she worked. Peter kept out of her way and held his child close to his chest, marveling in wonder at the babies petal soft perfection, the child blinking up at him with its unfocused blue eyes. Pausing by one of the open windows, Peter gazed out across the water to the jungle lining the bank, sunlight sparkling on the limpid green waters of the creek, the song of the birds fluting through the air as if welcoming the baby into the world.

"Welcome to Neverland, Christopher...welcome to your world...my son."

Turning back from the window, he saw Mirima beaming at him, her nut brown face wreathed in smiles. Wendy lay on her side facing him, her eyes open, watching him as he walked towards the bed. Laying the baby down, he stretched himself beside her, Christopher between them. The child started to cry and Wendy flicked a glance up at Mirima who indicated to her chest, Wendy smiling her understanding and undoing her chemise, exposing her rosy tipped breast, the flesh full of milk.

With infinite care the new mother put her baby to the breast, the small mouth finding the nipple and greedily latching on, one star fish hand kneading the firm skin, Wendy gasped at the unfamiliar sensation, looking up wide-eyed at Peter who watched it all with undisguised curiosity.

"Oh my...he's certainly hungry!" Wendy laughed softly, watching her baby feed, his small mouth tugging forcefully at her flesh. Peter sighed deeply and reached over, smoothing back a strand of hair from her face.

"He's beautiful Wendy...as beautiful as you."

Glancing up, she smiled mistily at Peter, love shining from her face both for her new baby and for him, her husband and the father of her child.

"I love you Peter...for ever and always,"

"To have and to hold, never to be parted...my love, my Wendy, my Queen." He affirmed in a whisper.

Over the head of their child, Peter and Wendy kissed, not in passion or in desperation, but in love, the scene in the cabin repeated several more times over the coming years, their love unchanging and ever steadfast, having and holding on to each other for as long as they both did live.

And beyond the cabin, all of Neverland rejoiced.

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The End.

(sniffle)

Thank you for your company, dear readers, take care until we meet again.


End file.
